


One and Only

by theoreoqueen



Series: One and Only [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-03-05 05:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 90,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3107009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theoreoqueen/pseuds/theoreoqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt is a single father who is struggling to get by. Blaine is one of the wealthiest men in New York City who has life handed to him on a silver platter. It has to be nothing less than fate when their two worlds collide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everybody! Before you read this I would just like to make a disclaimer that I have never visited New York City, so if there's any inaccuracies I apologize! But in the meantime, enjoy the fic!

Not for the first time, Kurt wondered what he would be doing if he was somewhere else.

Be it in a car like some of the other adults waiting outside the school, reading a book while listening to the radio softly. Or perhaps a bustling office with sketches of designs and outfits, people flocking to him for opinions and wisdom. Maybe the theater downtown practicing for the lead role, with curtains pulled back and stage crew hustling to the side, giving him room to perform a showstopping number.

Whatever his imagination pictured, it was definitely better than being the only adult here younger than thirty and leaning against a tree, looking down at his feet to avoid other curious stares from parents.

Once he made the mistake of looking up and got met with disapproving glare from a mother before he flushed angrily. Another time an older, single father waiting beside his own vehicle gave a wink to Kurt. That made Kurt keep his eyes down permanently. No way was he going to let _that_ get in way again.

His head snapped up when the school bell finally rang. The doors were opened and children bearing backpacks hurried out like a stampede. He pushed off from the tree, watching the small kids run to their proper parents with huge smiles and excited stories about the day. Their mother and/or father would praise them and then lead them to their car.

Kurt sighed, forcing himself not to envy too much over an SUV and turn back towards the mob of kids, lighting up when he saw a certain one rushing right towards him.

“Daddy! Daddy, look what I made!” shouted the very energetic five-year-old, waving his orange paper above his head. His Captain America backpack bounced against his shoulders, his green and blue striped shirt had a ketchup stain on it, and he had the widest smile on his round face.

“Hey there, Maxie,” Kurt said, managing a smile that didn’t reflect how exhausted the day had already made him. He smoothed down his son’s brown hair when he was near, taking a good look at the drawing. It seemed to be dry macaroni messily glued in the shape of an...animal? Maybe a favorite superhero? “Wow, that’s awesome!”

Max’s grin grew, and he handed the picture to his father before taking his hand, beginning the routine.

Thankfully, work was less than a few blocks away from Max’s school. They stayed close on the sidewalk, Kurt holding his son’s hand tightly as they wove around other New Yorkers--the phone talkers, the stroller pushers, the I’m-late-to-something runners. Max chatted about everything and anything, keeping Kurt up to date on every single event that happened today in kindergarten.

Kurt listened, nodding and making a comment now and then, but mostly focused on picking up speed. If he was late again...his boss wouldn’t hesitate to yell at him in front of everybody.

He did let Max push open the door to the Spotlight Diner, and Kurt let out a breath of relief when he saw that the lunch hour had died down, only leaving a handful of booths occupied. Even at three-twenty in the afternoon, people got hungry. This was NYC, for god’s sake.

The diner was retro themed, including a jukebox and a singing waiting staff. Five years ago this was the perfect job for Kurt from before his big break. Although, five years ago he wasn’t a single father just scraping by.

“ _Kurt!_ ” shouted Ronny’s harsh voice from the back.

Kurt winced, ushering Max to sit at one of the bar stools. “I’m here! I’m getting right to work!” After making sure Max had out crayons and a coloring book to keep him occupied for the next couple hours, he rushed into the kitchen to hastily tie his apron around his waist. Next he grabbed his notebook and pen, tucking them in the apron pocket but unfortunately not getting away fast enough from the wrath of his boss.

As he stood there, taking the verbal abuse and fully aware that the other employees were listening in and watching, that Max was _right outside_ those swinging doors, he again couldn’t help but wish he was elsewhere. Whether it was a car or a quiet park or, hell, even a decent house. Just in a better place than this hellhole.

* * *

Not for the first time, Blaine unapologetically ignored his phone ringing.

_Especially_ when he saw who exactly the caller was. He stuffed it right back into his suit pocket, cursing under his breath as he rounded the corner.

Why, of all days, was his assistant out of town? Why, in the entire world, was no one else available to get him his favorite kind of coffee? He was Blaine Anderson, for Christ’s sake. Second son of _Robert Anderson_. Any idiot in this claustrophobic city knew who he was, and therefore knew Blaine shouldn’t be going out of his way to get his own fucking coffee order.

Yet, as his older brother Cooper remarked after their wonderful phone call before Blaine left his penthouse, it was, “good to go out and enjoy the beautiful May weather!” Cooper didn’t listen when Blaine explained he had a banquet to get to and that dad would kill him if he was late. No, he was just concerned about the _weather_.

Grumbling, Blaine squeezed through pedestrians and finally made it to the diner, pushing the door open and actually feeling a smidge of thankfulness when he saw the place wasn’t too busy. Some old couples eating sandwiches, a few tourists fascinated even by the menu, and groups of hipster college kids huddled in booths. Fantastic, he can get in and out in no time.

There was this silver, 50s bar at the opposite end, with round leather stools to match the diner’s theme. Blaine strode there, took a seat, sighed and waited impatiently for a waiter. Why Tina always got coffee here, he wasn’t sure. It had the New York feel to it, and the food smelled great, but so far from the fifteen seconds he sat there, the service sucked.

“‘Scuse me?”

The sudden voice startled him, although he soon discovered it just belonged to a little kid who had appeared next to him, holding a thick dinosaur coloring book and a fistful of crayons. He was staring fixated up at Blaine with big, blue eyes. While Blaine was a bit confused, the boy appeared very determined.

“Can you spell T-Rex? But like, the big word?” the boy asked.

“I--” Blaine blinked, a list of responsible-adult questions spinning through his mind. He shook his head to clear them and answer the patient boy’s question. “Um. Sure, yeah. Tyrannosaurus?”

“Yeah!” He nodded enthusiastically and smiled up at him. The crayons were placed on the countertop while the boy flipped to a page in the coloring book, getting to a picture he had already colored. After slamming the book next to the crayons, he climbed onto the stool next to Blaine and pointed at the picture, “That’s it! He’s the T-Rex!”

Hate towards the inconvenient coffee trip transformed into adoration towards this cute kid, and Blaine found himself huffing out a chuckle at the picture. The outline was indeed a T-Rex, showing off its sharp teeth. But the boy decided that the dinosaur was made of purple and yellow scribbles, including curly orange hair and messy red eyes.

“Write it here,” the boy instructed, pointing to the top of the page.

“Alrighty,” Blaine agreed, grabbing the blue crayon and making a show of getting down to business: cracking his neck, straightening out his sleeves, getting the book situated correctly. He wrote the letters neatly, spelling it aloud under his breath, “T...Y...R...A…”

“Are you getting married?” the little kid asked, poking at his arm.

The suit was personally tailored and could pass as ‘formal’ (Well, according to his tailor, anyway) given its steel-gray color and purple-and-blue striped tie. Blaine didn’t care whatever color or brand name it was, it’s not like he was ever going to wear it again.

He did crack a smile and a short laugh, because of course that was the logic of a young child. Fancy suit equals marriage. Oh, god, if only he _knew…_ “No, no. Um, I’m going to a big party,” Blaine replied, returning to writing out the next ‘ _N_ ’.

The boy frowned. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

“Nope. Just a boring dinner and lots of talking.” _O...S...A..._

“Why are you going if it’s boring?”

Blaine sighed. “I dunno, kid.” _U...R…_

“My daddy says--”

“MAX!” shouted the second unexpected voice beside Blaine that day. He whipped in his chair, which caused his arm to collide into the keeper of the voice, who yelped as the drinks he was carrying went crashing down, drenching both him and Blaine.

Blaine jumped to his feet, mouth hanging open and utterly flabbergasted. Coca Cola and water became a puddle on his chest and the floor and...the _very_ attractive waiter who was down on his knees, hastily grabbing the now empty plastic glasses while apologizing and cussing.

Immediately, Blaine crouched down to the floor as well, damn the suit. He awkwardly began scooping up the clutter of ice cubes, finding it very difficult to take his eyes off the flustered waiter because... _wow_.

He was tall and slender and had arms made from heaven, wearing the black and red uniform all the other staff had. His chestnut brown hair was styled in a swoop, a couple strands were falling over his forehead. Flush pinkened his amazing cheekbones, and those stunning blue eyes were flitting from the spilled liquid to Blaine’s hands, then up to his face, and then they widened.

“Sorry,” Blaine said to him after he remembered he had the ability to speak. “I didn’t mean to bump into you, I--”

“ _KURT!_ ”

The waiter--Kurt--visibly flinched at the sound of what Blaine presumed was the manager. Noise of a door banging open and footsteps marching near made them both stand up together; Blaine cupping a pile of melting ice and Kurt with his tray under his arm and glasses in both hands.

While the boy--Max, right?--had his blue eyes widened and hands clapped over his ears, looking at Kurt worryingly. Wait, didn’t Max mention something about a dad--?

“ _You_ ,” snarled the white-collared, thick rimmed eyeglasses, and pudgy nose manager, glaring daggers right at Kurt. “Every time I turn my back, something goes wrong--!”

“Ronny, I’m sorry--” Kurt stuttered, his flush only growing from realization that every single person in the restaurant was now staring and the manager practically had steam coming from his ears.

“It was my fault sir, really,” Blaine jumped in, activating the sophisticated charm superpower. He placed his free hand to his chest. “I’m Blaine Anderson, and this is my first time visiting your fine establishment. Well, and, just as I was about to lose hope about your service this man was on his way…” he motioned at Kurt, catching his eye and grinning, “and I must’ve gotten so excited that I lost control of my limbs.” Blaine laughed, shrugging apologetically at Ronny the manager.

His name flickered some familiarity for Ronny, Blaine saw it in his eyes. The man humphed, looked back at Kurt and pointed at him. “Clean this up, _now_.”

The two let out an exhale after Ronny spun around and headed back towards the kitchen. Max uncovered his ears and glanced between them, waiting for the first person to say something. Since Kurt was focused on steadying his breathing and staring down at his wet clothes, Blaine decided to be that person.

“Look, I really am sorry,” he said, gently taking one of the empty cups from Kurt and plopping the ice cubes in it. Kurt seemed surprised at the gesture, but soon enough went back to the fumbling and embarrassedness.

“It’s fine, I was--and--” he stammered, balancing the tray on one hand again and placing the glasses on top. “It was very kind of you to--but I’m really--”

“Let me make it up to you!” Blaine said quickly, hoping this leap of the moment wouldn’t fail. Because, even though with a soggy apron and red cheeks, Kurt was incredibly gorgeous. “It’s the least I can do, for ruining your clothes and getting your boss mad.” He shot Kurt a charming smile, one that caused more blushing to the other man’s face.

While Kurt was at a loss for words, Max lifted up the coloring book page with the partially written _Tyrannosaurus Rex_ and a few stray droplets from the spill. “Look, Daddy! He helped me!”

So Kurt was Max’s father...but as far as Blaine could see there was no ring in sight. The chances of a date was still promising.

Kurt narrowed his eyes at the boy. “You and I are going to have a discussion later about talking to strangers.”

“Stranger? Oh yes, well, I guess I haven’t properly introduced myself to you.” Blaine restrained from holding out a hand (considering Kurt was busy holding up his tray) and instead placed a hand behind his back and another on his lower abdomen, making a small bow. “My name’s Blaine, pleasure to meet you…?”

“Uh--” Again, Kurt was utterly stunned by his action. He eventually shook his head and composed himself, answering, “Kurt Hummel.”

“I’m Max!” said none other than Max, hopping in his stool.

Blaine laughed while Kurt had another stern look for his son. Max giggled behind both his hands, and Blaine went back to his original statement, “So, how may I make it up to you? Coffee? Or how about dinner?”

Max was chanting, “Yes, yes, yes!” while Kurt looked rather torn, opening his mouth while no words formed and glancing at the kitchen door then back at Blaine. “I...I dunno. It’s very sweet of you, but I’m kind of busy…”

“No problem!” Blaine promptly leaned over the bar, taking the blue crayon from before and jotting down the note at the corner of the T-Rex coloring page. Max was propped on his elbows, watching intently. When finished, Blaine stood, giving Kurt a wink. “Call me when you’re free then?”

The waiter’s mouth was still parted, and Blaine took that as a good sign. Even though the clock at one of the walls read he needed to leave now or else, he wished he could stay a little longer, be in Kurt’s presence just a tiny bit more. Instead, he grabbed a fistful of napkins to dab the wet stain on the way.

“I hope to see you around, Kurt,” he said, lowering his voice just a notch. Kurt closed his mouth, his lips making a small smile as he nodded.

“Bye!” Max shouted, waving up at Blaine.

Blaine waved back, making his way towards the exit. He caught Kurt’s eye again before the man returned to work, and he waved at him too with a warm smile.

Pedestrians clogged the sidewalk like always. His phone most likely read _20 missed calls from DAD_. Though none of that mattered because someone like _Kurt Hummel_ existed, and Blaine might be seeing him again. And maybe even again, and again.

He couldn’t help but have a spring in his step.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Oh, my gosh. Thank you all for the lovely comments! I forgot to mention last time that the title is inspired by the song "One and Only" by Adele. Anyway, enjoy chapter 2!

“Is that his phone number?”

“Yes, Max. Shh.”

“Was his name Blake?”

“It was Blaine, honey.”

“Are you gonna call him?”

“...I don’t know.”

“If you do...ask if he can finish spelling the long T-Rex.”

“Max, I can finish spelling it.”

“But Blaine was spelling it!”

Kurt figured it was better to not retort and avoid repetitive arguments and instead finished their climb up the staircase to the fifth floor of their apartment building. He fished for the key in his pocket as Max kept talking.

“Blaine said he was going to a boring party. That’s why he was dressed up.”

Kurt finally unlocked and pushed open the door. “Is that so?”

“Yep!” Max said proudly as he went inside, reaching on his tip toes to switch on the lights before Kurt could. “Why would a party be boring? Don’t they have cake and presents?”

“I don’t think it’s that kind of party,” Kurt told him, helping Max shrug off his backpack.

Max considered this, Kurt watched it clearly on his face, before he bent down and undid his velcro sneakers. Kurt toed off his own shoes and nudged them to the side of the doormat, letting out a sigh while Max hurried off to play with his Legos before supper was ready.

The digital clock on the stove read 7:35. Kurt rubbed his eyes, trying to disregard the whirlwind thoughts on that phone number and forcing himself to focus on cooking a gourmet meal: mac and cheese.

The Hummels’ apartment was home, that was certain. Tiny, yes, with an ugly tiled kitchenette featuring the refrigerator covered with Max’s artwork and Post-It notes of ‘ _Call back Carole_ ’ and ‘ _Buy more bread!!_ ’. To the right of the doorway was the living room, where the worn green couch resided along with the boxy TV, the coffee table scattered with unpaid bills and Max’s action figures.

Down the small hallway was the bathroom Kurt still needed to clean and the only bedroom--Max’s bedroom, just fitting his single bed, dresser, and stacks of storage boxes. Kurt didn’t mind the sofa bed, honestly. The only pain was setting it up when at the end of a very long day every muscle protested. Sometimes he would give in and collapse on top of the couch cushions.

Now, as he dumped the hard noodles into the boiling water, he just couldn’t think about the responsibilities around the place, or the schedule tomorrow, or the constant money problems.

It was all about that _phone number_. And the handsome face who had that phone number. And how that handsome face stood up for him in front of Ronny, and practically asked him out even after he discovered Kurt had a kid.

 _Practically_ , he reminded himself, stirring the cooking macaroni a bit faster. It wasn’t official, it was just an act of kindness. Right?

 _Yes, it was_ , he thought firmly.

During supper they sat at the square, foldable table. It had character; duck tape across one side, spots of stains in places, and Kurt’s personal touch of faux daisies in a vase (much easier to tend to than real flowers). Max was mostly quiet during supper, only mentioning what he was building with his toys (a spaceship with laser cannons). Kurt listened, interrupting once to ask if he had homework. Max shook his head.

Before Max’s bedtime they sat cuddled on the couch as Kurt flipped through channels on their TV. One arm was draped around his son while Max leaned his cheek on Kurt’s chest. Besides when Max was asleep, this was probably the most peaceful part of Kurt’s day.

“Will Blaine be at the diner tomorrow?” Max asked.

Kurt sighed, hesitating before continuing the channel surfing. “I don’t know, Maxie.”

“I want him to. He was cool.”

Kurt didn’t reply to that, mostly because he didn’t want to dwell on the thought of of the finely dressed man for any longer. However, he was soon distracted with getting Max to bed, which included the teeth brushing, the pajama wrangling, the bedtime story, and the _goodnight, I love you_ s. Only when Kurt was laying alone on his thin mattress with the lights turned off and the sounds of traffic outside the window, that’s when he couldn’t help it.

 _He was cool_. Oh, he was more than that. Blaine Anderson was like a dream who brought a breath of fresh air into his hectic life. God, Kurt must’ve looked like a fool, standing there with spilled drink and a deep red face. Yet Blaine was looking at him like Kurt had personally hung the stars in the sky.

But with that suit and tie, he must’ve been rich. Some businessman or lawyer. Even if (and it was a pretty big ‘ _if_ ’) Kurt decided to type in that phone number, why on earth would Blaine want to be with him?

_I can’t repeat last time…_

Kurt tossed in his bed, huffing to himself. It had been five years ago, he had learned from his mistakes.

_But what about Max? And work? That’s far more important than a silly relationship…_

He took his pillow and fluffed it angrily. Hadn’t his friends been telling him for the longest time to treat himself, to do something happy that was for him?

_I should just ignore it. He’s probably forgotten about it anyway._

A faint car horn sounded outside their building and Kurt glared at the window. This war with himself would go on all night and frankly his bones were restless. This was ridiculous, he was over thinking, worrying too much.

 _Oh, fuck it_ , he reasoned with himself, rolling out of the sofa bed and kicking the blankets on the floor, snatching his cell phone at the end table.

Max’s Captain America backpack was leaning against the wall by the door. He knelt down, unzipped it and pulling out the coloring book. For some reason, his heart was hammering. Not from nerves, per say, but more...excitement?

Kurt flipped the pages and found the colorful T-Rex, and more importantly the scrawled phone number in the corner. He stared at it, catching the squiggly line at the end of it with a _B.A._ and a smiley face. Swallowing, he fidgeted with his phone.

For the past five years, this might be the most risky, the most spur-of-the-moment move Kurt had ever made.

He punched in the number.

He saved the contact.

He exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and licked his lips.

The blank message shined at him, and for a minute Kurt wasn’t even sure what he wanted to say. He could back down now, tear the number out and throw it away. Turn his phone off and go back to bed.

Kurt could return to his life and pretend none of this ever happened.

The blank message illuminated the room.

And Kurt began typing.

* * *

“I’m telling you…this guy was amazing. Incredible! An angel trapped in a shitty city and I...I gave him my number!”

Blaine expected more enthusiasm from his best friend, Sam Evans. Sam only made an amused face and shook his head. “Blaine, are you sure you’ve had enough champagne?”

Scowling, Blaine simply tipped back his glass, draining the rest of his beverage.

His father’s party was grand, as expected. High class people were around the ballroom, mingling among the white cloth tables with elegant decorations. All of them here because they donated a shred of their money to one of Robert Anderson’s many charity organizations, and Blaine assumed this party was to make them feel good about themselves for doing an honest human deed.

Sam was one of NYC’s most successful male models. Blaine met him when Sam first came to one of Robert’s banquets, completely giddy about helping those who were homeless, yet so naive how the system worked. Surprisingly, even after a few drinks and Blaine found out the sexy blonde model was straight, they remained good friends.

Sam had also heard about Blaine’s infatuations frequently, and knew how they all ended.

“So, the dude’s a waiter?” Sam asked, lifting an eyebrow.

Blaine had this relaxed grin and his eyes were practically sparkling. “His name is Kurt. He works at the Spotlight Diner and... _god_ , he’s so perfect. Like, every spotlight in the city should be on _him…_ ”

“Okay, you’re tipsy,” Sam chuckled into his champagne glass.

Putting his hand on Sam’s shoulder, Blaine looked at him seriously. “No. I’m head over heels for this guy and I barely _know_ him.”

At least they were off to the side while all the other guests were grouped towards the middle, closer to the live piano performance. No gossipers or journalists would eavesdrop on Blaine’s puppy love.

“Hey, here’s an idea. _Take him on a date._ ”

“Sam, he’s got a kid!” Blaine’s face lit up again. “ _Jesus_ , and he’s adorable.”

“Whoa, hold up.” Sam held up a hand, becoming concerned. “He’s _married?!_ ”

Blaine was about to drink his beverage again but sadly realized he had finished it earlier. “No. There wasn’t a ring. Listen, if he texts or calls, it means I have a chance, right?”

“I dunno man…” Sam twisted his mouth, seeming to be considering the correct words to say. “I mean, you have a reputation with loving ‘em and leaving ‘em. I don’t think you can play that game with this one.”

“And I’m not going to!” Blaine told him, gesturing his hands around as he spoke, his excitement too great to be contained in a civilized stance. “I can have a steady relationship! I can be responsible--”

With that, Sam barked out a laugh, almost choking on his drink.

Blaine frowned. “What?”

Waving a hand, Sam suppressed his laughter, controlling his voice. “Nothing, nothing. It’s just...c’mon, Blaine. It’s you.” Blaine furrowed his eyebrows. “ _You_. You haven’t had a job a day of your life. Everything’s been handed to you on a silver platter!”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not responsible!”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Alright. Whatever, man. How about we focus on that date first before you worry about, like, a wedding or something.”

That thought only made Blaine smile bigger. Okay, so maybe he _was_ a bit tipsy.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Blaine fumbled to get it out of his damn suit. He had to blink a few times to focus, but when he opened the message and read it, his eyes bugged and he gasped loud enough for Sam to become interested.

“He texted me! Holy shit, things are happening, Sammy!” Blaine said, hurrying to tap the reply button, however the phone was snatched from his fingers.

“Wha--Sam!”

“Nope, not going to let you text drunk.” Sam declared, dropping the phone in the inside pocket of his sleek black jacket.

“But, he said that he could find time around his schedule for maybe a quick bite to eat! Did you hear that? He’s making time in schedule for me!” With Sam stepping away, Blaine’s reach to rescue his phone failed and he stumbled slightly.

“Yeah, and you can respond back with a thousand smiley faces once you’re sober.” His friend took his arm and started leading him towards the exit. “C’mon. I’ll take you home so you don’t puke in front of everyone again.”

“That was _one_ time,” Blaine protested, the colors of dresses and decorations blurring together as they weaved through them. “Besides...I need to stay...my dad’s going to kill you if I don’t get a family picture with that big ass check.”

“Actually, your dad’s gonna kill _you_. Let’s be real, he loves me more,” Sam pointed out with a laugh.

Blaine laughed along. Well, he couldn’t argue with that.

The limo ride was the perfect time to clock out for the night. Blaine leaned against the window, sighing and enjoying the contrast of atmosphere compared to those snobbish guests and busyness of the city, all while dozing with the happy thought of that single text message.

* * *

“ _Hey, this is Kurt. If you’re still up for it I can make time in my schedule for maybe a quick bite to eat. That is, if this is actually Blaine and you were serious.”_

“ _Kurt! Hi, sorry if I didn’t text back right away last night. Anyway, I would love to go out to eat with you!! Any preference on food? What day are you thinking? :)_ ”

That was it. An innocent texting conversation lead to where Kurt was now, fidgeting outside the Spotlight Diner’s entrance, constantly either smoothing down his shirt or checking his hair in the window’s reflection. Thankfully, all of the New Yorker’s were so caught up in their own lives that they didn’t even notice Kurt’s obvious fretfulness.

 _This is a bad idea,_ he thought, forcing himself to try and stand still. _Why did I go through so much work for a highly possible train wreck?_

Thankfully, his close friend and coworker Rachel was more than happy to watch Max tonight. Although, she did demand the reason why, since, “You never go out, Kurt!” He had to shush her and explain the situation, and clarify after her squealing that this wasn’t a _date_ , it was just an act of kindness.

She gave him a look that said, “ _Suuurrree,_ ” and winked before returning to waiting customers.

Blaine agreed to meet him outside the diner at 7:00. It was Friday, meaning Kurt’s shift was over earlier and he had time to change into a decent outfit instead of his uniform. Nothing too fancy, just a pair of skinny jeans and a white button up along with a form fitting black waistcoat. He never really thought he’d be going out again anytime soon.

He never thought he’d be going out again _ever_.

Kurt spun back to the reflection in the window, fixing his already superb coif and ordering his mind not to ponder on _that_. God, he needed to relax. He was acting like a lunatic--

“Why, hello there.”

Snapping away from the window, Kurt actually restrained himself from not being startled when he saw Blaine had arrived. All smiles and bright hazel eyes, not wearing a suit this time but a deep red cardigan and gray slacks that didn’t quite reach his ankles. Had he pulled up in a cab? Kurt glanced around, but Blaine stepped forward, still staring at him.

“Wow, you’re looking good tonight,” Blaine said, his mouth curling up higher at one corner. Kurt looked down at his outfit and crossed his arms protectively. It wasn’t _that_ impressive.

Still, it wasn’t everyday he got a compliment from a cute guy. He managed a smile. “Thank you.” The other man continued smiling at him, freeing a hand from one of his pockets and bending his elbow, offering his arm out to Kurt.

“Shall we?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

Kurt parted his mouth, seriously wishing he wasn’t so fair skinned. His flattered blush could probably be seen across the street. He covered it with a cough, smiling smally and nodding quickly. “Um, sure.” Not as smoothly, he linked his arm with Blaine’s, his thoughts chanting over and over again, _Totally friendly. Totally friendly. He probably does this to everyone he’s nice to._

“So, where’s this café?” Blaine asked, leading him down the sidewalk and still grinning at Kurt, like he was making Blaine’s life by just being there.

“Oh. Just down the block,” Kurt replied, his voice cracking midway. He had hastily cleared his throat. Great, he just needed it more obvious that he hadn’t done this in a while.

Either Blaine hadn’t noticed or was polite enough to not say anything, but he moved closer to Kurt and bumped their shoulders. “Perfect.”

Whatever Blaine was doing with his charm, it was working. Because for the first time since the evening started, Kurt returned Blaine’s genuine smile, feeling the corners of his eyes crinkle. Okay, so maybe this night _could_ turn out perfect.


	3. Chapter 3

Being on this street of little knick knack shops and cozy diners was a first for Blaine. It was a warm atmosphere, being surrounded by the yellow lighting and people nursing their coffee or laughing in small groups. No one looked twice at him and Kurt, which was a nice bonus in living in the Big Apple.

The café wasn’t too far, nor too busy. It had a printed picture of a coffee cup on their window, with steam floating out in swirls. A brown and white striped awning had the logo on it as well, along with the name _The Cocoa Bean_. Small circular tables were set up outside, only a portion of them occupied. When they neared the place, sweet smells filled their noses.

Blaine turned to Kurt, wanting to say something like, “ _It looks cute!_ ” but was beat to the punch with Kurt motioning at the place, saying, “There it is. Nothing too fancy but, still. They have amazing hot chocolate.”

“Is it hot chocolate you wish to order, Mr. Hummel?” Blaine asked, only using a hint of flirtation. Best to woo with grace.

“Hot chocolate in spring? Besides, I’m really not that hungry,” Kurt told him, laughing a little and unlinking their arms as he pushed open the shop door, causing the chime of a bell to go off.

“Please, order whatever you want.” Following him indoors, Blaine saw how Kurt had crossed his arms again, so he swiftly moved to his side once more before promptly folded his hands together. “This is on me, remember?”

For a moment, Blaine saw a flash of relief in Kurt’s dazzling blue eyes. It was quickly covered with, “You don’t have to--” but Blaine held up a hand, insisting.

A young woman with blonde hair streaked purple at the front counter took their order of two mugs of hot chocolate, Blaine requesting extra sprinklings of chocolate shavings for Kurt (and grinning when he saw Kurt’s flattered expression). They found a table towards the corner where the brick wall met the large window, and Blaine restrained from pulling out the chair for Kurt, seeing how the other man had taken care of it himself.

“So, do you come here often?” Blaine asked, gazing around the adorable shop. It had a large chalkboard above the front counter was written in colorful letters. There was artwork even more vibrant hanging on the walls, each with price tags stickered on the frame. The floor was a deep hardwood, worn down from travelers over the years. A tiny, flickering candle with a checkered ribbon tied around its jar sat between them at their table.

Kurt made a noncommittal shrug and quirked a corner of his mouth. “Sometimes. My son Max loves it when they sell ice cream over the summer and occasionally we would come here and--” He stopped himself, smiling embarrassingly and waving a hand. “Nevermind.”

“No, I want to know,” Blaine encouraged, resting his chin on one of his hands and leaning forward on the table. “From what I’ve seen, he seems like an awesome kid.”

Kurt rolled his eyes playfully and made that flustered shrug again. “Yeah, he’s wonderful.”

“How old is he?”

“Five. Going to turn six in a couple of months.”

“Wow.” Blaine felt like he couldn’t stop smiling.

They had small talk before their beverage arrived. Kurt gradually became more comfortable and less nervous, and Blaine could help but wonder why he was so shy to begin with. Was it simply (hopeful) attraction towards him, or was there something else going on?

Kurt was Blaine’s age, twenty-eight, and had been working as a waiter since Max was born. He had moved here from Ohio and graduated from NYADA, which Blaine was beyond impressed. That was one of the top performing arts schools in the nation, only the best get enrolled. He was tempted to ask Kurt to sing, but the waitress arrived, handing them their steaming mugs.

Silence settled between them as they took their first sips, however Blaine was spinning with more questions. He wanted to know everything about Kurt. _Did you want to perform on Broadway? What’s your favorite color? Did Max have another parent? What happened? Do you enjoy long walks in the park? Did you know those skinny jeans look incredible on your legs?_

“So what about you?” Kurt asked, bringing him out of his thoughts and with the sight of Kurt scooping a dollop of whipped cream from his hot chocolate with his index finger and licking it off (oh, _wow_ ). “What’s your life like, Mr. Anderson?”

Oh, god. The million dollar question. Blaine played it off with a chuckle and looking down at his hot chocolate. “Um. Well, I, uh...live by Central Park.”

“Really?” Kurt’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Oh my god, are you serious?”

Blaine nodded, smiling with his lips pressed tight while silent praying, _please don’t ask how, please don’t, you’re going to judge me so hard and I’ve only just got to know you--_

“How?” Kurt asked, eyes wide and astonished. “I mean, are you like a lawyer or something?”

Laughing, Blaine shook his head. “No, I, uh...it’s a family business, I…” Being the smooth talker he was, he decided to distract himself with taking a large sip of his drink (which only resulted his mouth to burn and Kurt to become quite confused).

Thankfully, they switched topics when Blaine asked him about how on earth he got into NYADA and Kurt’s face lit up.

Time went by, and their empty mugs were set to the side while their elbows leaned on the table and they talked and talked, conversation flowing naturally. Blaine mostly asking questions about Kurt’s life, of course. Things would get too messy if they delve in his for long.

And Kurt--Kurt was stunning when he became passionate. Like right now, as he explained this audition he performed, his eyebrows changed his expression so quickly while his eyes squinted and widened and then crinkled when he smiled. His hands would gesture along with him, probably unconsciously so, with so much emotion Blaine wondered how in hell he himself was keeping up.

It was such a contrast from the Kurt he met at the diner. All exhausted and insecure and fumbling around. Worried and embarrassed. This Kurt was radiant, full of life and sparkling with enthusiasm. While both sides were still beautiful, Blaine couldn’t help feel this was Kurt’s true self, often buried under layers of uncertainty, and Blaine was given the privilege of seeing him so brilliant.  

God, he _was_ head over heels for this man.

Yet, the night grew on, and when Kurt checked the time on his phone Blaine saw the same tiredness in his eyes like he saw in him at the diner. “Oh, shit--I mean, I...it’s late, I need to…”

“Oh. Oh, of course.” Regular people had jobs to get to when morning came. People like Kurt had kids to feed after their alarm went off. Blaine stood from his seat when Kurt did, realizing that it had become so late that they were the only people in the café, save for the employee sweeping the floor.

They headed out the door together into the city’s atmosphere, hearing traffic zoom by while people filed around. Kurt was tapping something on his phone, so Blaine decided to take this time to stuff his hands in his pockets, wondering if it was a good idea to say something.

Sam was right, he had a reputation. He had charisma and charm, and saying something like this should be a piece of cake, but this was different. Kurt was different, and Blaine couldn’t screw this up so soon.

“Um, I should head home…” Kurt started, looking apologetically at Blaine as he put his cell phone into his jean pocket.

“Let me walk you there?” Blaine blurted. So much for smooth talking.

Kurt hesitated. “Oh, Baine. That’s very--um, that’s very nice but it’s a ways away…”

“I could get us a ride!” Blaine offered.

With that, Kurt made a face of disbelief. “You’re going to hail a taxi?”

Blaine laughed. “No, I’ve got other ways.”

He just couldn’t let Kurt go after being together for such a short period of time. Maybe he wouldn’t ask questions. Maybe Kurt would just accept the fact that--

“This is your own private car?” Kurt asked, mouth hanging open. “With a chauffer?”

Now laughing nervously, Blaine hoped Kurt didn’t catch that wink his white-haired driver Harold gave him from the rearview mirror. Of all people, Harold knew how Blaine would use his wealth as a flirtation device. This wasn’t the first time Blaine called up his driver to bring him and a handsome man home.

Except, now Blaine was bugging his eyes at the reflection of Harold and pursing his lips, hoping to give the message that _No, it’s not like that this time._

Fortunately, Kurt was staring out the window, watching the cars and lights zoom by. He had given Harold the address of his building and hadn’t spoken much since, save for the “Thank you” after Blaine held the car door open for him. Should Blaine start conversation, or let them both bask in the serenity of the vehicle while outside life was abuzz?

“How in the hell do you have a private car in New York City?” Kurt asked, turning away from the window and giving Blaine a curious look.

“Oh, I just…” Blaine shrugged casually. “Part of the family business perks, I suppose.”

Kurt smiled, sighing back at the window. “It’s so quiet, I love it.”

Blaine was perfectly fine that Harold was the only one to know he was beaming happily.

The buildings became older, more brick exterior donned in graffiti and rusty fire escapes. Even the street lights seemed dimmer than those near the café. Blaine frowned and looked over to Kurt, making sure if they were truly in the right neighborhood.

Harold pulled in front of an apartment building with brown brick siding similar to those around it. Kurt was unbuckling his seat belt, and while Blaine wasn’t quick enough to go around and help him out, he did get the chance to say, “Here, let me walk you to the door.”

The street outside was calm in the city sense. Not many cars, only distant noises of chatter and clamor. So vastly different than the lifestyle Blaine was used to.

“Thank you, for tonight,” Kurt told him as they walked up to the steps of the entrance, stopping outside the door and facing each other. “For the hot chocolate and now the car ride and...just, thank you.” He was smiling in a way that showed dimples. Faint blush was blooming across his cheeks.

“It was my pleasure,” Blaine replied, grinning back. “Perhaps we could do it again?”

Kurt’s smile faded and he looked unsure, crossing his arms over his chest once again. “Oh, um. I dunno….” Blaine’s stomach dropped. Had he pushed too far, had he ruined everything? “I mean, I...Blaine, this wasn’t a date, right?”

Blaine blinked. “Uh…”

“Because,” Kurt continued, cheeks glowing brighter, “while I did have a nice time and you’re very sweet, I just--you have to realize, I can’t...I’m just not...not with a _dating life…_ ” He was rambling, not even meeting Blaine’s eyes but rather staring wide-eyed at his shirt.

“Oh! Oh, no, I mean--” God, now Blaine was rambling too. Hopefully his driver wasn’t gossiping with Sam anymore, or otherwise he’d never hear the end of it. “I meant just hanging out again, Kurt. Trust me, I completely understand what you’re saying.” He caught Kurt’s glance and smiled reassuringly. “No dating. Just plain old, hot chocolate get togethers.”

Kurt’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Yes, that sounds great.” And those dimples made a return.

In any other circumstance, he would have cupped Kurt’s face for a goodbye kiss to tie off a fantastic evening, however Kurt wasn’t like any other person he’s been with. Kurt made him nervous, causing butterflies to appear in his belly. Made him okay with just being friends.

So, being friends, Blaine held out a hand. “I guess this is goodnight?”

Kurt giggled at the gesture, freeing a hand to shake Blaine’s. “Goodnight, Blaine.”

“Goodnight to you, Kurt.” Well, he was still Blaine Anderson, and keeping a grip on Kurt’s hand he tugged him forward, pecking a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Kurt’s blue eyes widened in surprise while the tips of his ears reddened. Blaine was grinning, releasing their hands before waving farewell and hurrying down the stone steps.

When he got back into his car and shut the door, Blaine lifted his head and saw his driver looking back at him, pressing his lips together to suppress a laugh.

“What?” Blaine asked, glancing down at himself.

Harold nodded at Blaine’s window. “You’ve completely swooned that poor boy.”

Looking out the window as well, Blaine saw Kurt still at the top of the steps, blinking a few times like he was coming out of a daydream, before realizing the car was still there, then shook his head quickly before turning around to hastily open the door.

Blaine couldn’t help but smile, even though Harold was chuckling in the front.

“And you, Mr. Anderson,” the driver continued, “have never looked so lovestruck.”

Now it was his turn to blush. “Oh, just drive, Harold.”

* * *

“So, how did it go?”

Kurt was startled out of eating his sandwich in peace, greeted by Rachel even though he was having his lunch break and she was not. Yet, she was leaning her palms against the tabletop and smiling widely, waiting impatiently for the news.

Frowning, Kurt replied, “How did what go?”

“Your date with the rich, handsome Blaine who saved you and swept you off your feet!” Rachel said, flourishing a hand in the air dramatically. “Oh, it’s just like a fairytale or a rom com!”

Kurt rolled his eyes. He shouldn’t have gotten too excited when he came home the other night to find Max sleeping soundly in bed and Rachel dozing on their couch with some reality show playing on the TV. She had been too tired to ask Kurt any details, only gave him a kiss goodbye on the cheek and yawned on the way out.

_Kiss on the cheek._ His face burned and he slouched lower in his chair, picking at his sandwich for distraction.

“Kurt, _c’mon_ ,” she urged, shaking his arm. “Was it good? Was it bad? Was he a total asshole?” She dropped her jaw. “Did you two kiss?”

“It was fine, Rach. And it wasn’t a date,” he said.

“What?! Then what do you call that?” she demanded, folding her arms over her red uniform.

“It was...just a get together, I told you!”

“But did it turn _into_ a date?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows while smirking.

“No, it did not!” He dropped his sandwich back into his basket before glaring up at her. “And Ronny’s going to kill you if he sees you’re not working--”

“But did you like him?” Rachel interrupted.

As if on cue, Kurt’s phone vibrated loudly against the tabletop. The two turned their attention towards it, the name of the sender glowing brightly, making Kurt immediately snatched it away just as Rachel gasped.

“It’s friendly!” Kurt almost shouted to her.

But she was giggling and beaming, clapping a little while she hopped in place. “Kurt Hummel, you are _blushing!_ ”

“Oh, shut up and get back to work,” Kurt grumbled, grabbing his food and keeping his phone close to his chest, marching towards the kitchen doorway, ignoring how Rachel was snickering to herself.

Although, once he was alone and just about to put his apron back on, he unlocked his phone and read the message from Blaine, knowing without shame he was smiling ear to ear.


	4. Chapter 4

Their texting conversations were comforting, somehow. Like talking to an old friend. Whenever Kurt went on break (Sorry, as Ronny wants them to call it, “ _Intermission_ ”) or on his way from one point of the day to another, he would get the time to chat to Blaine.

And the best part? It never felt like a chore. Blaine didn’t pester or question why he hadn’t responded back in two hours, which was a surprising relief for Kurt. He could just...talk without any pressure. Either asking about Blaine’s day or rattling on about his.

It was...nice.

Rachel would always tease, but Kurt just ignored it. Today, after he exited the kitchen with his notepad ready in his hand, Rachel waltzed up to him with the same gleam in her eye when she caught him giggling at his phone. Except, he didn’t have his phone, which was why he stared at her puzzled.

“Mind taking that table?” she asked, nodding over to a smaller booth. Kurt craned his head over, and almost dropped his notepad.

Blaine was sitting by himself, tapping his foot along with scrolling through his phone, dressed in the nines--although he probably considered it casual. Navy blazer, off-white slacks, a loosely buttoned undershirt. He had been chewing on his bottom lip, but after he glanced up and met Kurt’s gaze, his lips stretched into a warm smile and he waved cheerfully.

“You’ve got an admirer,” Rachel sang, poking him in the chest before flouncing off into the kitchen.

Kurt didn’t even have the time to clarify that he did _not_ , for she was already gone. He blew out a breath, composing himself before heading on over to Blaine, hoping he at least appeared level-headed.

“Whoa, fancy seeing you here!” Blaine said, folding his arms atop the table and looking up at Kurt with crinkled eyes.

“Weird, right? It’s almost as if I _work_ here,” Kurt replied, flipping open his notepad and clicking his pen, trying not to smirk too much. A challenge considering Blaine was laughing. “Did you come here to get anything, may I ask?”

“Why yes, you see,” Blaine said, “I never did order that coffee.”

“Ah.” Kurt nodded seriously. “Our world famous, mediocre java.”

“No way! My assistant Tina gets coffee from here all the time and it’s _amazing_.”

Kurt paused. “You have an assistant?”

He watched Blaine’s expression fall and his face cover in panic. “Oh. Um. Yeah…uh...”

Noticing how uncomfortable and oddly worried Blaine suddenly was, Kurt dropped the subject. “Well, just coffee then?” he asked, positioning his pen.

Blaine nodded quickly, returning his bright smile. “Yes. Thank you.” He shot Kurt a wink before handing him the menu.

“Well?” Rachel squealed once Kurt entered back into the kitchen, apparently waiting right outside the door for some kind of news.

“He wants coffee,” Kurt informed her, crushing her dreams of a grand gesture of romance or proclamation of love.

The week carried on, with Blaine returning every day. Sometimes he was lucky enough to catch Kurt on break, there they would chat about whatever while Kurt ate his lunch.

Occasionally Kurt would complain about work, or his schedule for the day, or the annoying customers, and Blaine would always listen intently, eating the pickles Kurt had picked off. Then there were times he would go on and on about exciting things, things that made his day better.

“...and then I guess Max just continued on with the game,” Kurt was explaining to him this time, his sandwich eaten to the crust and Blaine listening with his chin propped on a hand. “Because even after recess was over he went back inside, right? And it was reading time or whatever but he jumped on his chair and shouted, ‘Trolls!’ before diving under a table and scaring like, half the kids.”

Blaine barked out a laugh, shaking his head with disbelief. Kurt joined him, sighing, “His teacher told me he refused to come back out because he was still in danger of those trolls.” He was smiling so much his cheeks hurt.

“God, your kid is awesome,” Blaine said.

Kurt wanted to roll his eyes, because when was the last time he head that? He was tempted to make a smart remark like, _tell that to my first couple dates_. But, he caught himself, still unsure whether he should spill his whole tragic life story to Blaine just yet.

Because, even though Kurt had never met anyone quite like Blaine before, he was still somewhat of a mystery.

“Why hello, prince homos,” came the drawl of Kurt’s other friend and coworker, the one that made his smile immediately go to a frown. _Of course_ she was here now that he was having alone time with Blaine.

“Hello, Santana,” Kurt said, turning in his chair to face her. Her hair was up in a ponytail and her red and white uniform was on, a purse hanging over her left shoulder. She must have just arrived for her shift. “You’re here early.”

“Yeah, well, Berry’s teaching your spawn all the songs off _Funny Girl_. And seeing how I’m roommates with her, I’ll have those lyrics ingrained in my skull for the rest of eternity.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes before taking attention to Blaine. “And who are you?”

Blaine, a bit taken aback by Santana’s approach, was rather quick to collect himself and put on his classic formality. “My name’s Blaine.” He stuck out a hand.

Santana completely ignored the hand and squinted at his face instead. “You look _really_ familiar.”

“He visits a lot, okay?” Kurt told her, seeing how Blaine was shrinking back a little in his seat. “Please tone down your creepiness for once.”

“No, like,” Santana went on, putting a hand on her hip, “I feel like I _just_ saw you in a magazine or something.”

Blaine laughed nervously. “Must have that generic face, then.” He scrambled to open the menu in front of him, distracting himself with the options. Furrowing his eyebrows, Kurt stared at him, confused on why he was acting so weird.

Santana snapped her fingers. “Holy shit! Are you Blaine _Anderson?_ ”

As Kurt replied, “Yeah” Blaine held his palms out and said, “No, no, no!” which only confused Kurt even more, and his expression shot at Blaine made sure he knew it too.

Turning to Kurt, Santana smirked like she was rather impressed with herself. “That Anderson family owns like, the fanciest hotels in the city. Apparently they’re insanely rich, too. Seeing how they’re always donating money to orphans and whatnot.” She studied Blaine up and down, probably judging his green sweater and collared shirt underneath.

Kurt felt his mouth fall open, mixed at wanting to shout how absurd that was and demanding to Blaine why he never told him. Instead, he sat frozen in his chair, watching her stride way with her chin held high, proud on her achievement.

Blaine was avoiding Kurt’s gaze, instead staring intensely at the opened menu, fixing his jaw while faint blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Wait, is she telling the truth?” Kurt asked before the uncomfortable silence could drag on any longer.

Slowly, Blaine glanced up at him, his eyes drawn in worry. “Remember when I told you about a family business?” he asked, trying to play it off casual with a small laugh.

This time, Kurt slapped a hand over his gaping mouth. Anyone who’s anyone had heard the Anderson name. Whether it be on the news or floating around in work conversation. He assumed Blaine had some money on him, but the Andersons were one of the wealthiest families in New York City, if not the entire country. They owned lavish hotels and mansions and cars--

How could he have not realized Blaine Anderson was _the_ Anderson?

“Oh, my god,” was all Kurt’s muffled voice said.

“God, please don’t judge me,” Blaine said, surging forward across the table to grab Kurt’s free hand and hold it between his own, almost desperately. “This is why I didn’t tell you at first, because I knew this was going to happen, _god--_ ”

It took a moment for Kurt’s mind to click that Blaine was actually holding his hand, and he was acting like some sort of teenager with how his stomach fluttered with the sensation. He let the hand covering his mouth fall, then he wetted his dry throat.

Blaine looked uncharacteristically embarrassed and incredibly guilty, almost pleading to Kurt silently. Did he think Kurt was going to run away screaming or treat him like an animal in an exhibit? The shock was fading, although it was a pretty big shock indeed.

“That explains the assistant,” Kurt eventually told him, cracking a gentle smile.

Shoulders sagging, Blaine let out an exhale, grinning back at him with relief. “You’re not freaked out?”

“What? Of course not,” Kurt said. “If anything I should be the one embarrassed. Considering I’m...and you’re…” He gestured a hand, hoping the message was received. Blaine was there at the front steps of his crap building. He’s well aware of the job Kurt had.

Blaine shook his head. “Don’t be. You’re amazing, Kurt.” His thumb was soothing over Kurt’s knuckles, and while Kurt figured it was an unconscious gesture, he caught Blaine’s eyes flitting down to it and him smiling coyly.

“Why the hell,” Kurt said, bringing Blaine to take his attention back up at him, “are you spending money at a ratty old diner when you could be eating at Four Seasons?” The comment lightened the tension more so, and the two found themselves chuckling together.

Blaine, however, answered with honest eyes. “Because when I come here, I get to see you.”

* * *

“I’m taking it slow Coop, but god, is it worth it. There’s nothing rushed or cast aside. It’s actually feeling like something is happening, you know?”

Cooper Anderson closed his eyes, massaging his temple. While he knew of his baby brother’s behaviors, listened to him first rattle on and on about a gorgeous guy and never speak of him again a week later, he also knew that this one was no exception.

“Blaine, you’re doing it again,” he said, tapping his fingers against his glossy wood desktop. The desktop where papers were piled and his laptop was opened with all the emails he needed to read.

“Doing what?”

“Lusting after a guy like he’s a gift from heaven, then wooing him into your bed, and then never picking up his calls ever again,” Cooper sighed.

“Oh my god, listen, it’s different! Kurt’s different!” Blaine protested, most likely pacing around his New York penthouse. Cooper resided in Los Angeles, managing the hotel chain from there. Perks of being the oldest: you get partial partnership in your family’s business. Downside: your little brother decides to do nothing with his life besides fuck whoever he wants and live the high life.

Glaring at nothing in particular, Cooper said, “Blainey, I know you’re thinking that now, but what I’m saying is that I know you, and I know he’s not going to mean anything to you come next week.”

“You’re wrong, okay? I’m going to do this right.”

“Know what you need to do?” Cooper said, sitting straighter in his office chair and pressing his cell phone closer to his ear. “You need to start being responsible and help out with the company. Dad’s not going to be around forever, Blaine, and do you think I’m going to let you into the business just because you realize that all your money is cut?”

Blaine groaned from his end of the line. “I know, Cooper, and we can talk about that later--”

“I’m serious. Do you honestly think you’re going to live the rest of your life without doing any work?”

“Relax, okay? I _know_.” He paused briefly before asking, “Hey, what’s a place that Sophie and Madeline like to go when they visit here?”

Cooper sputtered, throwing a hand in the hair. What in god’s name did his seven-year-old twin daughters have to do with this? “Why, Blaine? Why would you possibly want to know?” he asked, tone seeping with sarcasm and annoyance.

“Because, Coop, if I am going to prove to Kurt I am a worthy boyfriend, I need to show that I’m here both for him and his kid,” Blaine replied confidently.

It took Cooper five seconds to absorb that information, then to abrupt in laughter. “You’re joking, right?” he managed to ask, doubling over in his chair and wheezing.

“Excuse me?”

“Blaine--oh, sweet Jesus. You do realize what you’re saying, right?” He took in a deep breath, controlling his laughter and wiping his eyes. “You know, I’ve changed my mind. You’re going to forget about him at the end of _this_ week.”

“I’m being serious!”

“ _You?_ With a kid? Damn, Blaine, you’ll hire a fucking assistant to tie your own shoes. How are you expecting to sweep this Kurt off his feet when you haven’t had real responsibility a day in your life?”

Blaine was furious, cussing at Cooper and defending himself to the end. Mentioning something about how he’s going to change and he’ll prove Cooper wrong, but he was cut off by the red _End Call_ button. Cooper dropped his phone to the table and sunk back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.

He’ll love his little brother to death, but by god, was he clueless.

* * *

He’s said it once and he’ll say it again, but Kurt _loved_ Fridays.

Fridays are a guarantee of getting off early. Fridays meant he’ll go pick up Max from school and they can go straight home, kick back and relax and stay up late watching a Disney movie from the library until Max falls asleep and Kurt can carry him off to bed. It meant sleeping in later (if Max doesn’t pounce on his bed too early) and eating cereal in the living room while they watch Saturday cartoons before Kurt took the afternoon shift.

The only downside to this particular Friday was that Blaine didn’t show up for his daily visit, meaning Kurt ate lunch by himself. Which was alright by him, he didn’t mind the change in pace when it was just him alone with his thoughts. Although, he did text Blaine and asked what he was up to, but so far got no response.

Choosing to not let it bother him too much, Kurt gathered his empty sandwich basket and picked up his phone, throwing his finished lunch in the trash bin before heading back into the kitchen to grab his apron and get back to work.

Just as he was reaching for his hook, his cell phone buzzed in his hand.

Sadly, his excitement lasted briefly when he saw it was Max’s school instead of Blaine. He pressed the answer button and brought it to his ear, already preparing himself to hear how Max frightened all the kindergartners this time. “Hello?”

“Mr. Hummel? This is Ms. Becker,” came the rather panicky voice of Max’s teacher. She was faint, jumbled with sounds of ruckus behind her. “I’m calling to tell you that--well, we’re in an ambulance right now. Max fell off the jungle gym during recess and we have to take him to the hospital.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another disclaimer: I am not an expert in the medical field, so again I apologize if anything is inaccurate!

Blaine pushed open the double glass doors, searching left and right across the waiting room. People were murmuring among themselves in the lines of gray chairs, only a handful glancing up at Blaine’s entrance. Some nurses in scrubs walked about, talking or looking at their clipboard. A woman at the front desk noticed Blaine, promptly standing to direct him to check in, but he wasn’t paying attention.

The person he was looking for was pacing near the back, hugging himself and pressing the top of his phone to his lips.

“Kurt,” Blaine breathed, striding over quickly, weaving through the waiting room chairs as gracefully as he could without taking his eyes off him.

Kurt brought his head up, his bright blue eyes rimmed red and puffy. He dropped his tense composure when Blaine was near, lips pursed thin and his chin wobbling. “You came.”

“Of course I did,” he said right before Kurt threw his arms around him and pulled him close. His nose was buried in the crook of Blaine’s neck and his body began shaking.

“I’m s-s-sorry to h-have you--but I was so scared-d and I didn’t know--” Kurt started to say, voice cracking on the edge of tears.

“Shh, hey, it’s alright.” Blaine soothed his palms up and down Kurt’s back, rocking him a little. “Is he okay?”

Kurt nodded against him, then pulled away and wiped his eyes. Guiding him to sit down at some empty chairs, Blaine rubbed his shoulder as Kurt poured out everything he knew.

“Max was outside for recess and...I told you about that game he played? With the trolls? Well, his teacher said she could hear him shouting at them and climbing up the jungle gym to go and get them and…” Kurt’s voice broke, causing him to take a shaky breath before continuing, “He climbed to the top and f-fell through and--” His face scrunched up, fighting back more tears. “He hit his head and wouldn’t wake u-up--”

As much as he could with the arms of the chair between them, Blaine brought Kurt in to lean against him, shushing him gently while he let out unsteady breaths. “What did the doctors say?” Blaine asked softly.

“That he had a, uh, mild concussion,” Kurt replied, waving a hand weakly. “But he’s still with the doctors n-now.”

“No brain damage?”

Kurt shook his head.

“Hey, that’s good!” Blaine said, giving Kurt’s shoulder a tiny squeeze.

Kurt broke out in a small smile and brushed his drying cheeks with the back of his wrist, his sniffles lessening. “Thank you, for coming here,” he said in a small voice, meeting Blaine with watery eyes. “It was so out of the blue and I’m over here sobbing like crazy--”

“Hey now, you have every right to,” Blaine told him, wishing he had tissues or something comforting. However, the only thing that would probably bring Kurt comfort is seeing his son.

Cautiously, he used his free hand to reach over and catch one of Kurt’s trembling ones, holding it firmly. The other man relaxed, his hands steadying soon after.

A plump nurse with cherry red glasses came out some time later holding a clipboard, calling out, “Kurt Hummel?” to the waiting room.

Kurt shot up in a flash. She smiled at him and gestured to follow her.

His hand was still linked with Blaine’s, and while Blaine was sure he was going to let it go, Kurt yanked him upwards as well. “C’mon, if Max is awake he’ll be thrilled to see you too.”

Max was tiny in his hospital bed, laying there with a Buzz Lightyear t-shirt and an oxygen tube strung around his nose, looking rather suspicious on whatever the doctor was saying. His face lit up with joy at the sight of Kurt entering. “Daddy!”

“Hey there, kiddo,” Kurt said, a relieved smile on his face when he walked over, sitting on the edge of the mattress. “Take it easy, okay? You just woke up.”

Max pouted, but his eyelids were drooping like he was about to go back to sleep again. Not before he caught Blaine standing at the doorway. He gasped loudly, eyes flying open. “Blaine!”

Waving, Blaine chuckled along with the doctor and Kurt. Max seemed too excited to even consider relaxing. “What’s Blaine doing here?” he asked his father.

“He came to make sure you were alright,” Kurt said, gently pushing Max by the shoulders to lay back down before he pounced completely out of bed.

Max grinned over at Blaine and gave him a thumbs up, which Blaine returned with just as much enthusiasm.

Blaine got a chance to exhale, feeling his heart rate slow for the first time since he got the panic text from Kurt. He watched Kurt smooth Max’s brown hair and calm him down before turning to Blaine, smiling in a way that said, _Everything was okay again_.

* * *

It _had_ been okay, until Kurt was handed the hospital bill and his stomach plummeted to his feet.

Usually, a million and one ideas will race through his head when a bill comes in. Cheaper food, no new shoes, find more shifts at work. But with this...and they’re behind on rent…

He couldn’t think about it now, not with Max laying his head on his shoulder as Kurt held him against his chest in Blaine’s luxurious private vehicle. No serious injuries meant Max could come home that night, with Blaine generously offering to drive Kurt home instead of letting him take a cab.

Speaking of which, Blaine’s hand was still soothing up and down his arm, a relaxing motion while Blaine watched with a small smile as Max slowly began to doze off. The inside of the car was so incredibly quiet and tranquil compared to the events of today, Kurt was beyond grateful.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t comforting enough to forget the troubles that were to come.

* * *

Five flights of stairs whose creaks threatened to wake Max with every footstep, and a broken elevator. That is what Blaine first experienced when he entered Kurt’s apartment building.

When they finally reached the fifth floor, Kurt nodded down the hall and resituated Max in his arms. “501,” he whispered to Blaine. Nodding, he followed Kurt to correct door, ignoring the smell of dusty carpet and moldy wood.

It was hard to wrap his mind around, that someone as extraordinary like Kurt could be living in a place like this. With its fading diamond-patterned wallpaper in the hallways and occasionally noisy neighbors whenever they walked by a certain door. Blaine couldn’t forget that Max lived here are well, and his heart ached in his chest.

Kurt had stopped outside 501 and was struggling to balance the sleeping Max on one arm while he fished for his key in his pocket. Unsure whether he should step forward and help, or if that would be borderline inappropriate, Blaine opened his mouth to offer something, but Kurt had successfully retrieved the key. Max then made a snuffle sound and nuzzled into his father’s shoulder.

They both froze, staring at each other until the boy was still again. When it seemed safe to move, Blaine offered out a hand. “Here, let me,” he said quietly. Exhaling with relief, Kurt gave him the small brass key.

He even held open the door for them, hearing Kurt whisper, “Thank you” when he walked past, flicking on the lights. Blaine shut the door carefully behind him, letting the click be as quiet as possible. When his task was finished, he blew out a breath and turned to face the inside of the apartment.

It was small. So small Blaine felt like he wasn’t in a living space, but more so a shoe box. Small kitchen with crowded appliances, a radiator thrumming through the walls. Small living room with wool carpet and a used sofa. Kurt was now walking down a small hallway, turning to the left and into another room, rubbing Max’s back and making soft shushing sounds.

Figuring he shouldn’t butt-in, Blaine casually went over into the kitchen area, walking past the (yes, small) square table with only two chairs and heading for the refrigerator. Just as he was beginning to wonder, _how the hell do people live like this everyday?_ he stopped short and got a good look at the fridge, and couldn’t help but crack a smile.

It was colorful, probably the most colorful item in this place. Covered from top to bottom in a collage of scribbled pages torn out from coloring books, shapes and glitter glued onto construction paper, crayon drawings of superheros or animals or brown-haired stick people holding hands.

And those were just Max’s artwork. In between were Post-It notes of various reminders, magnets from random businesses like the local library, and photographs. Photos of Kurt and Max at the park, smiling up at the camera with ice cream in their hands. Max sitting at that tiny square table, blowing out the birthday candles on a cake. Max holding up a Ziploc bag with a bloody tooth inside, his own wide smiling missing one. Kurt and Max at a photo booth making silly faces at each other.

They were their own little family, and they had made a home in this apartment. But still, Blaine couldn’t help but wonder if Max ever had another parent, why they weren’t in any of these pictures, and what had happened…

“Sing me the song, Daddy,” came the drowsy voice from the doorway Kurt had disappeared behind.

Blaine lifted up his head, craning an ear towards the noise. “If I do,” Kurt whispered back, “will you promise to go back to sleep?”

Max must have nodded in agreement, because then the most beautiful sound Blaine had ever heard emerged in a quiet tune. Like a [lullaby](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ii0ASIMJwUs).

“ _Blackbird singing in the dead of night...take these broken wings and learn to fly…_ ”

And Blaine finally understood why Kurt had gotten into NYADA years ago.

It was faint from where he was, but even so he felt entranced. As if he couldn’t help but stay still and listen, his features softening and his breathing slowing. So engrossed in the sound of Kurt’s song.

He almost didn’t notice when the song was finished and Kurt exited the bedroom, coming out into the kitchen and seeing Blaine. “He should be asleep soon enough,” he said with a tired smile.

Blaine returned it as he leaned against the counter. “I would be too. It’s been a hell of a day.”

“Tell me about it,” Kurt sighed, stopping in front of Blaine before crossing his arms. He looked completely drained, and for the first time Blaine saw how the shadow of light reflected dark circles under those blue eyes. They glanced up, locking on Blaine’s. “Thank you,” Kurt said. “I know I keep saying it, but really.” The corners of his mouth lifted higher.

“It’s not a problem,” Blaine replied.

Kurt’s gaze wandered over to a spot next to the toaster, his expression saddening. Blaine looked over as well, seeing a glass jar with dollar bills and coins piled in it. He scrunched his eyebrows together. “What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s--” He knew Kurt was about to say ‘nothing’ like how he always did. This time, he hesitated, crossing his arms tighter and drawing out a breath. “It’s the Special Occasions Jar.”

Although a bit amused at the title, Blaine tilted his head and waited for a further explanation. “That’s where I put away a couple extra money in case if we want to do something. Like go see a movie or...go out to eat…” Kurt’s voice trailed off, and he was staring at Blaine’s chest instead of his face, straining from keeping his voice steady.

Blaine instinctively stepped forward. “What is it? What’s wrong?” he asked gently, putting a hand on his upper arm and rubbing his thumb, hoping that would ease Kurt’s tense stance.

Kurt shook his head, attempting to put on a smile. “It’s nothing…”

“Kurt,” Blaine insisted, ducking his head to meet his eyes.

The other man wavered, parting his mouth though no words came. He eventually snapped it shut, dropping his arms and walking over to grab the jar and dump its items. Kurt filtered through the bills, and while Blaine was still confused and was just about to ask, the money was slapped back on the counter before Kurt spun around.

“Twenty-seven dollars and thirty-one cents,” he said. “I have twenty-seven dollars and thirty-one cents.”

Uncertain on what to say, Blaine watched him, noticing Kurt’s posture. Spine straight and chest tight, his face expressionless other than his eyebrows drawn in worry.

Then, something cracked, and Kurt gasped out a breath as his eyes began to mist.

“What--Kurt, what it is?” Blaine came to him, placing his hands on his shoulders, wanting some kind of answer, anything.

“No, nothing--I--” Kurt squeezed his eyes shut tight, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “I’m sorry, it’s just...it’s not enough, it’s never enough…”

“What?”

“I-I...I’ll have to pick up more hours at the diner and, and…”

Blaine realized, the reality crashing upon him like a weight to his chest. Perhaps Kurt was too proud to say it, or didn’t want to admit it out loud. However if any of the signs Blaine suspected before, then seeing their living quarters, and knowing Kurt had Max to take care of as well.

It was hard to forget the look on Kurt’s face when the doctor gave him those papers.

“Kurt, let me help you.”

Scoffing, Kurt gave him an eye roll. “Blaine, I don’t think Ronny’s going to listen to you--”

“No, I meant,” his hands skimmed down Kurt’s arms, slowly making its way to his hands and covering them with his own, “let me help you pay off that hospital bill.”

By Kurt’s face, it seemed he was surprised Blaine figured it out. “I...I’m not going to let you--”

“No, I want to,” Blaine insisted. “You know I’ve got plenty of money, and I don’t want you to--”

At least Kurt had stopped trembling, though he was shaking his head firmly. “No, I’m not asking you to. I can do this--”

But he hadn’t shied away from Blaine’s hands, so Blaine just held them tighter. “Kurt, let me. Please. I can’t stand to know you’d be struggling when I know I can help. I just...I care about you so much and…”

Kurt inhaled a sharp breath, and just when Blaine thought he would retreat, that he had said too much and now what they had was broken, Kurt kept staring at him. A little scared, but not terrified.

“You mean it?” Kurt finally asked in a small whisper.

Blaine exhaled, tension lifting in his chest. “ _Yes_. Every word.”

A breathy gasp. Corners of mouth lifting. Eyes shining in tears, happy ones. Relief flooded Kurt’s features, and before Blaine knew it he was being embraced in Kurt’s strong arms.

“Thank you, thank you,” whispered Kurt next to his ear. “I’ll pay you back, I promise--it might be a while, but I promise.”

Blaine chuckled a bit. “You don’t have to.” He wrapped his arms around Kurt’s back, running his palms across it, bringing him closer.

Sadly, Kurt had pulled away to wipe away a stray tear, but his smile was so bright still. “You’re...you’re something else, Blaine Anderson.” He huffed out a shaky laugh, in which Blaine soon joined in, his hands now resting at his waist. They were inches apart, wrapped up in each other perfectly.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Blaine said. He paused, choosing his next words carefully. “I really do care about you, Kurt. And Max. Like crazy.”

From what Blaine read next, Kurt seemed to be taking time to phrase what he was going to say in return. There was hesitation and clogs working in his mind. His hands were balled up at Blaine’s shoulders, and his eyes flitted to them, then to Blaine’s own eyes, then at his mouth.

Then, Kurt had closed those few inches, and pressed his lips to Blaine’s.

The apartment was almost pitch dark, light sources only coming from one by the oven and streetlamps outside. The radiator continued humming, becoming white noise by now in that small kitchen. Because Kurt’s fists unfurled and cautiously edged to Blaine’s neck, skimming his skin, touching the back of his hair.

And Blaine? Blaine was kissing the most outstanding man in the world. He had breathed through his nose and tried not to sigh out of pure happiness, tried to refrain from grinning widely against Kurt’s lips. His heart was doing cartwheels, his fingers itching to grip Kurt’s hips like there was no tomorrow.

Being the first to initiate it and now the first to end it, Kurt parted from Blaine, his eyes blinking open like he was coming out of a dream. His pupils were blown wide, the tips of his ears redder than ever.

Blaine wanted to do a million things right then and there. He wanted to pull Kurt in again, crash their lips together and back Kurt against the counter. He wanted to laugh and sing joyous praise to whatever powers that brought him to this point.

Kurt spoke before he ever got the chance to do any of those things. “Can I...ask one more favor?” His eyes were bright, but his voice was hesitant.

Were first kisses supposed to have you feel like you were invincible, that if Kurt would’ve asked Blaine to commit a crime or shave all his hair off he would happily oblige? “Anything,” Blaine breathed out, relaxing into a smile.

Kurt bit his lip, raising his shoulders and dragging on the silence before, “If it’s not too much...would you mind staying with me until morning?”

Raising an eyebrow suggestively, Blaine smirked at Kurt until he caught on, his jaw dropping and giving Blaine a light slap on the shoulder. “Just sleeping, Blaine! _God_.” His sternness was betrayed by giggles.

“I would love to,” Blaine replied, lacing their fingers together.

He came to discover Kurt slept on the ancient couch in their living room, which Blaine helped move the coffee table to make room for the pull-out mattress. Kurt sifted through his rack of clothes in the back corner, finding sweatpants and a t-shirt for Blaine to sleep in. They took turns in the bathroom, Blaine getting to see all the skin products Kurt owned and his blue toothbrush sitting besides an Iron Man one on the sink.

He couldn’t help but smile. This wasn’t a dream. It was _happening_.

Finally, _finally_ , he got to crawl under the layers of wool blankets with Kurt on the thinnest mattress Blaine had ever known. Kurt had switched off the lamp, and when he turned back around Blaine surged in and kissed him again, cupping his face.

Kurt’s head dropped to the pillow when he broke apart, smiling toothily. “Goodnight, Blaine.”

Blaine meant to say ‘ _goodnight_ ’ back, but it came out more of an inaudible breath. He went in again, longing to taste Kurt once more, because he was allowed to. Because he didn’t want to let go of the feeling of his warm, perfect lips just yet.

“Blaine--” Kurt tried to say when Blaine kissed his cheek, then the underside of his jaw. “Blaine, I meant it when I said just sleeping.”

“I know, I know,” he chuckled softly, pressing one more kiss at his cheekbone. “Goodnight, Kurt.”

He heard Kurt hum contently as Blaine got comfortable. They were facing each other, fingers intertwined between them, hiding under the blankets. This may have been a first for Blaine, the innocent sleeping and chaste kisses, but it was progress. Kurt was easing his protective guard down, was letting Blaine in.

And as they dozed off together, Blaine couldn’t have been happier.


	6. Chapter 6

It felt too good to be true, Kurt was sure he was dreaming.

A warm chest pressed to his cheek, a firm arm wrapped around his back. Soft snores heard above him, solid legs tangled with his. Of course it was nothing else but a dream, he hadn’t shared a bed in ages, much less woken up next to such a comfortable body…

“Daddy?”

Kurt nuzzled closer to the rising and falling chest, wanting to keep hearing the steady heartbeat his mind had imagined for him. Couldn’t Max let him sleep for a little longer? Breakfast could wait one more minute.

“Daddy, did you and Blaine have a sleepover?”

His eyes flew open, and the chest shifted under him.

“Mmm...what?” said the groggy voice of Blaine, the arm that wasn’t around Kurt rising to rub his eyes. This wasn’t a dream. This definitely wasn’t a dream.

Kurt rolled off of Blaine (when had he rolled _on?_ They didn’t fall asleep all cuddled like that) and sat up, running a hand across his own face to rub the drowsiness away. It was morning, the early sun shining through the window. The blankets were twisted around their bodies and a very determined Max was kneeling at the far end of the mattress, his hands on his hips and his _Star Wars_ pajama top somehow unbuttoned in the middle.

“Max? What...uh, what are you doing up?” Kurt asked, attempting to scoot farther away from Blaine and not get distracted on his adorable bedhead of curls or sleepy grin he was giving Kurt or...the fact that they kissed last night. He had kissed Blaine.

“I want Lucky Charms! I always have Lucky Charms, always!” Max was telling them, throwing his hands up in the air like the world was in chaos and they weren’t doing anything about it.

Blaine sat up higher on the bed. “ _Always?_ Since the beginning of time?”

Max nodded confidently.

Blaine dropped his jaw. “Since before you were _born?!_ ”

“Yes!” Max’s face scrunched up in laughter before he started crawling up in the mattress, digging his bony knees in Kurt’s legs before he situated in sitting on his father’s lap, still facing Blaine. He reached over and poked Blaine’s stomach. “Why are you wearing my daddy’s shirt?”

Oh, no, this was not a conversation Kurt was going to have now. Especially since Max’s favorite thing to do was ask question after question and Blaine was on the verge of laughter and he himself was feeling his face blush. “Okay then! What about those Lucky Charms, huh?”

Max chanted, “Yes, yes, yes!” and tugged at Kurt’s faded grey pajama shirt to get him out of bed faster.

Saturdays had the tradition of having sugary cereal instead of plain old Honey Nut Cheerios like during school days, then eating it on the sofa bed while morning cartoons played on their tiny TV. Except this morning included Blaine lounging against the kitchen counter, deciding to stay to the side and listen to Max babble after Kurt assured him he didn’t need help gathering breakfast supplies.

“Why did you sleep here? Did you watch a movie after I went to bed? Why didn’t I sleep on the couch bed? Are you sleeping here tonight, too?” Max asked Blaine, going a million miles a minute with how fast he spoke, jumping around the kitchen area impatiently. Obviously the events of yesterday hadn’t lowered his energy, despite Kurt’s efforts to calm him down for that exact reason.

Blaine had his full attention. “Your dad said I could stay. And we didn’t wake you because I snore too much.” He made an apologetic expression, catching Kurt’s gaze and giving him a quick wink.

“Daddy snores, too. All boys snore,” Max told him matter-of-factly. He stopped jumping to motion for Blaine to bend down, so he could whisper not-so-quietly into his ear, “I saw you snuggling with Daddy.” Then he burst into giggles, covering his mouth with both hands.

“ _Kurt_ ,” Blaine groaned, standing up and raking a hand through his disheveled hair. “We’ve been exposed.”

Kurt made a dramatic sigh in return, which only caused his son to giggle more. “And we were being _so_ sneaky.” He smirked at Blaine, handing him a lime green bowl of Lucky Charms.

The three sat cross-legged on the couch’s fold-out mattress, Kurt and Blaine leaning against the back cushions and Max sitting as close as he could to the television, chewing his cereal mindlessly while he watched his favorite superhero cartoon.

The two men mostly sat in silence, swirling around their cereal and eating it in peace. Kurt so desperately wanted to say something, even comment on the show Max was watching. He almost wanted to bring up the night before, when Blaine had broken something down inside of him he wasn’t even aware had been built, had made him feel open for the first time in, well, forever. He needed to explain that perfect kiss.

He didn’t have to fret anymore, for Blaine had said, “You have a beautiful singing voice, by the way.”

Kurt almost choked on his cereal. “What?”

Blaine grinned. “Last night, you sang that Beatles song to Max.”

“Oh _no_ ,” he groaned, looking down at his soggy marshmallows. “Oh god, you _heard_ that?”

“Hey, I said it was beautiful, remember?” Blaine chuckled, pecking a kiss to his cheek.

Just like the last times, his face grew warm incredibly fast with his heart leaping and breath catching.

“Blaine, you do know that we have to talk about,” he gestured between them, “this.”

“I know. I was thinking about it while we went to sleep,” Blaine said, catching more cereal with his spoon and nodding.

“Thinking about…?” Kurt tilted his head, wondering if it was something he should be worried about.

“How we sort of did it backwards, didn’t we?” Blaine’s smile went crooked, and he dropped his voice to a whisper so Max couldn’t hear, “I mean, you invited me to your bed before we even had a proper date.”

“ _Blaine!_ ” Kurt hissed, doing his best to fight off laughter and to not shove his arm, since he would _not_ like spilled milk on where he sleeps.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Blaine laughed quietly, glancing at Max. Thankfully, he was too entranced by cartoon Hulk punching through a brick wall to pay attention.

“I haven’t done this in a while, _sorry_ ,” Kurt teased, distracting himself by chasing more Lucky Charms when he realized flush was rising to his cheeks. Maybe Blaine wouldn’t dwell so much on that statement and Kurt wouldn’t have to venture back into that subject of ghosts of dating past.

“Well then,” Blaine continued, either being polite and not questioning further or not even noticing, “how about a date then? A _proper_ one?” He smiled at Kurt, perhaps also remembering the night of hot chocolate as well.

Kurt opened his mouth, and out of habit hesitated. He was an adult, a father of a young boy. He had to think things through, put Max before his own needs, no matter what his feelings for Blaine were.

At one point he thought it was best to know that it was a guarantee to be rejected dates simply because of his responsibilities.

“Blaine…” Kurt said. “I really want to, but I have work and Max--”

“He can come along!” Blaine offered, setting his almost-finished bowl in his lap. “We can go wherever you want. The movies, the park, the zoo…”

“You want to go on a date with me and Max?” Kurt raised an eyebrow, suspicious. Thinking Blaine must be joking, because this was _Max_. Demander of Lucky Charms and fighter of imaginary trolls.

Blaine nodded enthusiastically. “C’mon, it’ll be fun! Hey, Max?”

Max twisted around from the television screen, dry milk on his chin.

“What are your thoughts on going to the Central Park Zoo?”

Max gasped.

Kurt tried to keep on a serious expression when Max hastily set his bowl to the floor and hurriedly crawled up the mattress, eyes huge with excitement. “Are we? Are we really? Daddy, is Blaine going to take us? Really?” He landed between them on his knees and palms, looking back and forth at them for some kind of an answer, and fast.

Blaine looked at Kurt, also waiting for an answer. History told Kurt to say no, since any time a relationship drifted into his life, it ended horribly anyway. But for some reason, this time was different. Blaine was different.

He bit his lip, glancing down at Max and purposely stalling to reply just to increase his anticipation. “Well...I suppose.”

At the same time, Max pumped his fists in the air and shouted “ _YES!_ ” before collapsing backwards on the blankets just as Blaine himself did a smaller fist-pump, saying “ _Yes_ ” up at the ceiling.

* * *

The rest of Saturday was booked with Kurt working at the diner, but Sunday brought sunshine and free time for the Hummels and Blaine. He only had to ignore a lunch date his father had planned by putting his phone on silent It’s not like any of those things mattered than to what was happening now.

For Max was gaping at his surroundings, pulling at Kurt’s hand to drag him towards the penguins or seals or monkeys. People filed all around them, also having children tugging at their arms to have them see the animals.

Kurt was telling him to slow down, since they have all day and didn’t need to rush. Blaine wasn’t sure if it was a tendency, but Kurt gave Blaine an apologetic smile as he tried to reel Max back in.

In a way to say everything was fine, Blaine laced Kurt’s free hand with his and grinned reassuringly.

They had made their way to the sea lions, Max staring in awe at them along with all the other guests. Kurt and Blaine lingered behind him, and much to Blaine’s delight, kept their hands intertwined.

“So far so good?” Blaine asked him. In truth, he had never even considered taking anyone to a zoo as a romantic gesture, or anything remotely similar in that case. It wasn’t the most charming of places in the city, but his nieces enjoyed coming here when they visited.

To answer his question, Kurt’s eyes drifted to where Max was gasping at the sea lion who dived into to water, then met Blaine’s. He was smiling when he squeezed Blaine’s hand.

The polar bears were a somewhat quieter place. Max’s face was pressed against the glass, watching the gigantic white bears swim past him. Kurt and Blaine were leaning against the brick wall off to the side, keeping a careful eye on him while they hand a moment of privacy.

“You know, after I moved to New York I never even considered visiting here,” Kurt said to Blaine. “Because, you’ve seen one zoo and you’ve seen them all, right?” He laughed a little, shaking his head.

“But...is this still okay?” Blaine asked, swaying a bit towards him, lowering his voice a notch. “You’re still having fun?”

Kurt nodded, dimples appearing on his cheeks. “God, I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.”

“It’s just looking at animals,” Blaine pointed out. He could’ve taken Kurt on a boat ride or to a Broadway show. Those would’ve definitely been more exciting.

“Yes, but,” Kurt turned towards his son, who was slack-jawed at the polar bear who chased after an inflatable ball above him. “It’s so relaxing. And Max is having the time of his life, so, bonus!”

They joined together in quiet laughter, watching more families filter out of the area to move on to the next exhibit. Blaine couldn’t help but take this moment to rejoin their hands, playing aimlessly with their fingers. Kurt’s hands were smooth and warm, seeming to fit perfectly between his, no matter how corny that thought was. Blaine was still lovestruck over him, even if love was such a serious and intense word to use for it. Kurt made his heart go wild and mind whirl with joy.

And they were on an official date. _Finally_.

“Daddy, Blaine, look!” Max called to them, pointed at the glass. A polar bear was inches away from it, lazily paddling past.

The two widened their eyes and said, “Whoa!” which in return Max grinned and went back to gawking at the animal.

“Hey, Kurt,” Blaine began, looking down at their laced fingers. If he didn’t ask this now, when would be another time to? “So, about…” in a similar fashion to when they ate cereal together, he motioned between them with his other hand, “us.”

“Okay, I know, but let me say something first,” Kurt said quickly, dropping his hand away from Blaine and holding both his palms in the air, like he was bracing himself. Blaine nodded, letting him know he could.

Kurt chewed his bottom lip, eyes checking on Max once more before he said hushed, “I know this is a date and it’s been so wonderful and thank you for buying our tickets…”

“My pleasure.” Blaine grinned.

“And _you’ve_ been so wonderful and I cannot thank you enough but,” Kurt exhaled, color rising to his cheeks. “I need you to know that, if we were to, uh, become something that...that I’ve…” He froze, eyes locked on Blaine’s and the flush grew prominently. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

Blaine’s shoulders relaxed. He thought Kurt was going to admit something much worse. “Kurt, I know. You told me--”

“No, you don’t understand.” Rubbing the back of his neck, Kurt paused to think carefully. “Every relationship I tried to have after the...and they all ended horribly and I need you to know that I haven’t dated in a _really_ long time and you’re not just anyone Blaine and--”

“Kurt, sweetheart, you’re rambling,” Blaine said gently, smiling fondly and stepping forward to sooth his shoulders with his hands. He saw Kurt smile bashfully at the endearment and decided it was a good sign to go on. “When I said I cared about you I meant it with all my heart. I promise I won’t be like those other assholes you may have dated--”

“Can we go see the penguins?” Max asked, coming up beside them.

While Blaine was concerned whether the five-year-old heard his curse word, Kurt lifted him up from the ground and swung him onto his shoulders. Max squealed in delight and pointed overtop Kurt’s hair. “To the penguins!” he shouted out like a battle cry.

The two chuckled at him and continued on, Kurt catching Blaine’s eye and whispering, “ _We’ll talk about it later._ ”

‘Later’ apparently meant when they found a bench and Max was chasing pigeons who were innocently searching the sidewalk outside the penguins’ area. Kurt had sighed and looked away from his son, saying to Blaine, “I never really dated anyone. After...well, after, um, the divorce I tried talking to other guys but they never wanted anything serious after they discovered I was a single dad who had a young kid in tow.”

Kurt said this all rather hurriedly, like it was bottled up and now just finally getting out. Even saying the word _divorce_ sounded rather difficult, as if Kurt wanted to avoid the word altogether. Though Blaine had suspected that had been the case of Max having a single guardian, he couldn’t help but long for the rest of the story.

Instead, he shook his head, scooting closer to Kurt and instinctively taking his hand again, letting them rest on Kurt’s leg. “And you’re afraid I’m going to be like the rest of them?” he asked quietly.

Kurt stammered for a moment. “Blaine, I--I really like you. You’re...so amazing. In so many ways.” He paused and smiled when Blaine chuckled at that statement. “But you’ve got to understand that I just _can’t_ get hurt again. Not when Max needs me so much.”

Now Blaine’s heart clenched, wondering what on earth happened. Who could’ve dared to break Kurt’s heart. He couldn’t ask, not right now, so he squeezed Kurt’s fingers and said, “Well, Kurt Hummel. I can promise that I won’t hurt you.”

Kurt scoffed softly. “You can’t promise that, Blaine.”

“No, I suppose not. But I’ll try my hardest not to. Because I’m so crazy about you. You’re the amazing one, and Max is unlike any other kid in the world. I’m personally blaming you on that one, for raising such an awesome child.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, fighting back a smile. He looked over at Blaine, studying his face. “I work a lot, you know.”

“Not a problem, since I can easily visit you during lunch.”

“Being a parent means date nights might be cut short,” he continued to challenge.

“Understandable.”

“I don’t have a lot of money to buy you dinner.”

“I think we both know that I’ve got plenty to pay for the both of us,” Blaine teased.

Kurt groaned and looked back at Max, his dimples refusing to leave no matter how much he struggled to be serious. “It’s not going to be easy,” he said.

“I don’t want easy,” Blaine told him. “I just want you.”

He had made Kurt blush from flatterment, which caused Blaine to grin widely. Their conversation had to come to an end, for Max had trotted up to them, utterly exhausted. “Daddy, I’m hungry,” he said to Kurt, crawling up to his lap.

“Hi, Hungry. I’m Dad,” Kurt said, pinching his sides to make him giggle and squirm.

“Noooo! I mean my tummy is hungry!” Max explained with a long sigh.

“Want some ice cream?” Blaine offered.

Max’s eyes bugged and he doubled checked from Kurt before he got too excited. His father fixed his mouth in exaggerated consideration. “You can if you say thank you.”

“Thank you, Blaine!” Max almost shouted, grabbing both Blaine and Kurt’s sleeves to pull them from the bench.

Their day ended with all of them filled with chocolate ice cream and Max being carried by his father as he rested against his chest, the exhaustion from roaming the zoo crashing upon him. They waited at the curb of the street for Harold to arrive with the car for Max to go home and take a needed nap.

“So, what now?” Blaine asked Kurt, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Kurt tilted his cheek against the top of Max’s head and looked over at him. A tiny smirk appeared on his lips. “I’m expecting a goodbye kiss when we get dropped off, and then a hello kiss when I see you during my lunch break tomorrow.”

Just like last time, Blaine walked Kurt up to his building’s doorway. Except unlike last time when he pulled him in, he leaned around where Max was sleeping against his dad’s shoulder and got to properly kiss Kurt, unable to help but smile against his lips.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first off...this fic is now seven chapters in and has over a hundred kudos! Like, holy crap...whoa....thank you all so much. I'm so overjoyed I don't even know what to do with myself but in the meantime here's chapter seven!

“Kuuurrrrrrrrttt your boyfriend’s here,” Rachel sang to him, winking at him as she made her way into the kitchen.

Kurt looked up from refilling the ketchup bottles at the bar, seeing a toothy and cheerful smile directed at him. The owner of said smile was standing at the diner’s entrance, waving Kurt’s way.

He couldn’t help but return the smile, setting down the ketchup bottles and about to stand when Santana emerged from the kitchen door with a still-giddy Rachel, one hand propped on her hip.

“Boyfriend?” she asked Kurt, arching an eyebrow. “Are you sure he’s not just your sugar daddy?”

Rachel slapped Santana’s arm and scolded her while Kurt ignored her completely, heading around the bar and tables, trying to subtly smooth down his shirt before he arrived in front of Blaine.

 _Boyfriend_. God, wasn’t that a foreign word? Especially since it associated with someone like _Blaine_. Sweet, kind, and charming Blaine. Who cares what Santana said when Kurt had someone who kept his promises and visited every afternoon for lunch.

Which was confusing, since Kurt’s break wasn’t for another hour. Still, he walked up to Blaine with a grin and let him press a kiss to his cheek (and Kurt hummed when he heard Santana groan from a distance).

“Hello, darling,” Blaine said with his chosen endearment. One would think after over a week of dating, Kurt wouldn’t be blushing at something as simple as ‘baby’ or ‘sweetheart.’ Yet here he was again, ducking his head and smiling wide.

“What brings you here so early?” Kurt asked.

“Well, I have some good news and bad news,” Blaine told him. “ _Well_ , one of them is news. The other is more of a question that might turn _into_ news--”

“Blaine!”

“Okay, okay, sorry!” He laughed before squaring his shoulders and tugging his burgundy cardigan straight, holding up a single finger. “Firstly, I will not be here for lunch, hence the coming here early.”

“Oh.” A little crestfallen, but that wasn’t going to shake Kurt for the rest of the day. “Is that the bad news?”

Blaine grinned bigger. “Of course, because the good news involves me asking you: what are you doing tonight?”

Kurt gave him a curious look. “Let’s see...it’s Friday, so I get off early today, thank god.”

“So, you’re free?”

Again, Kurt was absolutely bewildered. “Why, may I ask?”

“Because, Mr. Hummel,” Blaine said. “I would like you to be my plus one to my father’s charity gala tonight.”

* * *

It was like stepping into another dimension.

Sure, Kurt had seen pictures of events like these. Had read articles, watched TV news anchors stand outside of them, but for him to be entering into one, it was unbelievable.

An Ohio boy who worked at a diner was walking on red carpet.

Blaine had exited the limo (an actual _limo_ , can you believe it?) the same time Kurt had, offering his arm in a much similar fashion to their hot chocolate date. Kurt had ceased gaping at the sleek and tall skyscraper they had pulled up to and linked his arm with Blaine’s, hoping he at least appeared composed and not like he was flipping out.

Rachel had squealed with the news of this gala, and graciously offered to look after Max for the night. She did warn Kurt that with the potential of being the lead in _Funny Girl_ , her babysitting days might come to an end. Kurt was just happy that everything was working out smoothly.

The party was indeed extravagant, something beyond even Kurt’s imagination. Inside an elegant ballroom was glittering chandeliers above their heads and ice sculptures beside the hors d'oeuvres table. The guests mingling about definitely fit the scene: classy suits, formal gowns, each of them probably totaling Kurt’s yearly salary. It was incredibly overwhelming.

Blaine squeezing his hand brought him back down to earth. He looked like a prince, with his dark curls styled and his blue suit tailored to perfection. Yet he was staring at Kurt with bright eyes as if _he_ was the gorgeous one here. All Kurt wore was a simple black tux and tie he only owned for special occasions, like weddings or funerals. And, in this case, a gala for the richest of New York.

“Relax,” Blaine whispered into his ear, sliding his arm free and bringing it to the small of Kurt’s back, guiding him farther through the room. “No one here is going to bite.”

“Am I really that obvious?” Kurt asked. To think years of acting during college would’ve hid his anxiousness.

Blaine smiled warmly. “Your eyes are huge and you’re breathing so fast I’m afraid you might hyperventilate.”

Kurt gave him a look while he blushed slightly. Blaine chuckled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Hey, it’s fine, trust me.”

They walked past round tables with intricate centerpieces, each one occupied by groups of attendees who were making small talk, Kurt presumed. What in the world did they casually talk about, Kurt wondered. Their private islands, their yachts? How the hell was _he_ supposed to blend in with them?

He didn’t have the chance to worry too much, for Blaine had lead him to another round table, one nearer to the stage where a pianist was playing a pleasant tune. Only seating a couple other people, who stopped talking when Kurt and Blaine arrived.

Kurt smiled politely at them, not even sure that was proper procedure for these people. Blaine had kindly pulled out a chair for him and he sat, watching Blaine take the seat to his right. “We didn’t miss supper, did we?” Blaine asked the table in comfortable formality.

One of the men, who had dark brown hair and a deadpan look towards Blaine, didn’t reply but asked, “Who’s your friend, Blainey?”

“Oh! Well, Coop,” Blaine angled himself more towards Kurt, absolutely beaming, “this is Kurt Hummel. Kurt, this is my brother Cooper Anderson. He flew in from L.A. for tonight.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Kurt said, seeing how Cooper’s posture was leaning on one elbow with his fingertips rubbing together idly, and decided not to reach out and shake hands.

Cooper nodded. “Ah, yes. The single dad.”

The table settled in uncomfortable silence. Kurt was certain he looked shocked at that statement, and glanced over at Blaine for some kind of reassurance. His boyfriend was glowering at his brother, his jaw clenching.

“Hey, Kurt! Finally, we get to see you in the flesh!” said the other man at the table, this one with blonde hair and a friendly smile, opposite to Cooper’s attitude. “My name is Sam Evans, I’m Blaine’s best friend in the whole wide world.”

Instantly, Kurt felt some tension lift in his chest. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Sam.”

Dinner was served shortly, white-suited caterers bringing out all kinds of food, Kurt didn’t even know what to do with half of it. Juicy steak, steaming soup, brightly colored fruits and vegetables, mouth-watering pasta, and so much champagne.

“Which…?” Kurt whispered to Blaine, gesturing at the multiple forks and spoons.

Blaine paused chewing his red velvet cake. “Honestly, which ever ones you want. I don’t even understand why we’re given so many.”

“So, Kurt,” said Cooper, bringing their attention to him. “How did you and Blaine meet?”

Placing his chosen silverware back on the table, Kurt replied, “It’s actually a funny story--”

“Let me guess,” Cooper interrupted, looking up from where he was cutting his steak and almost glaring at Blaine. “Was it at one of Blaine’s favorite strip clubs?”

“COOPER!” Blaine was furious, slamming a hand on the tabletop, shaking the plates and glasses.

At this point, Kurt was certain he was either red as a cherry or white as a sheet. Whichever it was, he felt like he had to vomit. He glanced at the only other person at the table, but Sam was just as wide-eyed at Cooper, shrinking back in his seat like he was avoiding a potential bloodbath.

Before any claws could come out, the room became silent as lights started to dim, and a single spotlight came on the stage. People began to applaud as a man walked up to a microphone, smiling in such a recognizable way Kurt almost choked when he came to realization who exactly he was.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” said the man, folding his hands behind his back. “I thank you all for coming here tonight, and more importantly, donating more than twenty million dollars to children’s hospitals around the state.”

Robert Anderson was a man that brought power with his presence, and the way he stood showed it. Tall and proud with his shoulders square and his expression even. He had dark hair like his sons, although the sides were streaked grey. His suit was black and fitting to the event, including a silver tie. The guests applauded again at what he said, Kurt’s table included.

Blaine’s father continued on with his speech, thanking specific people for donating more than others, thanking the pianist, thanking his wife and family. Kurt hardly paid attention to any of this, for his thoughts were spinning on what Cooper had said before, on how he was treating his and Blaine’s relationship, on whether Robert Anderson would think the same…

People clapping again brought him back, and he blinked before seeing Robert exit the stage. Everyone returned to their previous conversations, although Kurt just grabbed his champagne and downed as much as he could.

“Honey?” Blaine asked quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Mhmm.” Kurt nodded quickly, not exactly meeting Blaine’s eyes. “I’m just gonna…” And with that, he hastily stood, startling the men at the table but not really caring. He needed a moment to breathe, and the first place his legs carried him was the hors d'oeuvres at the other side of the ballroom.

Even the little food was fancier than anything Kurt had eaten. Crossing his arms, he stared at the intricate sandwiches on toothpicks or slices of watermelon decorated with tiny red leaves, pretending he was actually searching for something when actually he was controlling his heaving chest.

Maybe Cooper was angry at Blaine for other reasons. Maybe what he said wasn’t true…

“Everything alright?” said the voice of none other than Cooper himself, coming up beside Kurt with his own champagne glass.

Surprised, Kurt caught that behind Cooper other guests were walking about as well, mingling with others while the melody of the piano started again. He couldn’t see Blaine, but he did respond, “Uh, yeah. Everything’s fine.”

“The party isn’t getting to you, is it?” Cooper joked, smiling in a way that didn’t reach his eyes.

Kurt crossed his arms tighter. “Nope. Like I said, everything’s fine.”

“Hmm.” Cooper took a sip of his drink. “I was just wondering, considering Blaine’s plus ones in the past would be practically vibrating in their skin at this point.”

Kurt blinked, taken aback. “Excuse me?”

Raising his eyebrows, Cooper put on a convincing shocked expression. “Has Blaine not told you? I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised--”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kurt set his jaw and turned back to the tiny sandwiches. Still, Cooper kept talking.

“Tell me Kurt, has he told you _anything?_ Any hint of his past dates? Any of his other lovers?” Cooper asked. “Because, believe me when I say this, but I was pretty amazed to hear Blaine’s latest interest was a _waiter--_ ”

“Again, I _don’t know what you’re talking about_ ,” Kurt tried to make his point again, his stomach twisting horribly.

“I’m trying to help you, Kurt,” Cooper said, his voice a tad gentler. “Listen, I know my baby brother, and that’s why I’m trying to tell you to forget about him.”

“What?!”

“Let me ask you,” Cooper went on, “did he buy you something? Or pay for something that was incredibly expensive? You don’t look like a rich guy, so maybe you were thrilled that he did. I’m guessing he also drove you around in his fancy private car?”

Kurt felt like he was going to be sick. “I’m not here for his money.”

“Kurt, listen to me, Blaine is not one for commitment. At my wedding, he told my father that marriage was a life sentence.” Cooper got Kurt to meet his eyes again, and the other Anderson son actually looked sympathetic. “That’s why he has a reputation, see. Having dozens of lovers but never a partner. And the reason I’m telling you this is because I have kids too, and I can tell you’re actually one _looking_ for commitment. Like I said, that can’t be with Blaine. He’ll break your heart in a matter of time, he always does.”

Bile rose to his throat, and Kurt found it difficult to breathe. His fingers were gripping his crossed arms so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Sort of nodding at Cooper, he exhaled deeply from his nose and gestured towards the exit. “Can you, um...tell Blaine I’ll be outside? I need some...air…”

Cooper made a sad smile and patted his shoulder.

No one paid attention to his departure, they were too busy caught up in their own life. After stepping foot outside the building, Kurt was met with a gust of city air. It was a friendly welcome to what happened indoors.

 _How could I have been so stupid?_ He thought to himself as he walked along the line of trimmed shrubs growing outside the skyscraper. To think he had finally found someone who wanted to be with him…

His eyes were burning with tears, so Kurt hastily brushed them off, stopping on the sidewalk to wrap his arms around himself. God, he felt humiliated, like he had been tricked into a horrible game. He wanted to go home and curl under the covers and never think about this ever again.

“Kurt?” called out the very voice he absolutely did not want to hear. Kurt whipped around, seeing Blaine jog down the sidewalk towards him, his face covered in concern. “Are you alright? Coop said you just left and--”

“Why are you doing this?” Kurt demanded, his vision blurring with those tears again. The anger, the embarrassment, it was too much. Before he’ll leave, he’s going to explode, that was certain. “After everything I told you about...not getting hurt again, yet you do it anyway!”

Blaine blinked. “What--?”

“What do you want, huh?” Kurt shouted, not caring less about the people strolling past them. “Did you just want to get in my pants and then leave me out to dry? Just like all your other ‘plus ones’--”

“Kurt,” Blaine said slowly, taking a step forward. “What did Cooper tell you?”

Scoffing, Kurt rolled his eyes up at the night sky. “ _Everything_ , thank you very much. I _knew_ this was a mistake, you know. I almost didn’t message you after you gave me your number and now I wish I hadn’t!” Tears were definitely rolling down his cheeks by now, but it’s not like it mattered.

“Kurt…” Blaine did that thing where he placed his hands on Kurt’s shoulders in order to calm him down, although this time Kurt jerked away, not wanting to touch or even look at him. He heard Blaine exhale, then say, “Look, whatever Cooper said, it’s--”

“Just forget about it, okay?” Kurt’s voice was quieter, defeated. “I’ll just hail a taxi and be out of your troubles.”

“No, Kurt, listen.” Grabbing his wrist, Blaine made him turn back and look at him. He was determined and somewhat scared, either what he was about to say or the idea of Kurt actually leaving him forever. “Okay, what Cooper said was true. But that was in the past! I’m not like that anymore!”

Kurt shook his head with disbelief. “What, you suddenly changed when you met me?”

“Yes!” Blaine nodded. “Well, at least I wanted to. Because...okay, even though I might have had others who I’d...be with one night then forget about in the morning, I never felt that with you.” He stepped towards him, and this time Kurt didn’t move away. “I _wanted_ to be with you, as in a relationship. I wanted something deeper when I saw you, Kurt. It’s hard to explain--hell, it’s even hard to understand because literally _no one_ has made me feel that…”

The tears had ceased while Kurt’s shoulders relaxed. “Blaine…”

“I’m crazy about you, Kurt,” Blaine told him, his hazel eyes shining. “And, yeah, I’m not one who is good with romance or relationships, but I really want to be with you. Like, as boyfriends.”

“But why?” Kurt asked. “Why me, of all the other guys in New York?”

“Because,” the hand on Kurt’s wrist had trailed down, lacing their fingers together, fitting together like puzzle pieces, “you’re not like the other guys. You’re strong and brave and you _care_ so much.” He was close now, so close Kurt was sure Blaine could hear his hammering pulse. “Now, let me ask you something.”

“Huh?”

“Why did you let me stay the night?” Blaine asked softly, his smile gentle and so unlike the environment they were in. Bright streetlights and zooming traffic all with the noise of the banquet. “After you kissed me, why did you want me to stay?”

Kurt’s breath hitched. Still, he couldn’t break his eyes away. “I...I needed someone I could trust to...be with me. Because that day had been so hard and--” he swallowed once. “You made me feel like I wasn’t drowning anymore. I wanted to wake up to you in the morning.”

Blaine’s smile grew a tad more. “Do you still trust me to know I’m telling the truth, that I still want to be with you, and only you, Kurt?”

 Every instinct Kurt had learned told him to forget about it, that he shouldn’t even bother. His mind was screaming to turn away now before his heart could shatter once again. But that heart...his stupid, swelling heart that had been locked tight and protected at all costs was the tiny voice making him stay right where he was.

The hand intertwined with Blaine’s dropped, only because it was moving to Blaine’s neck, holding it as Kurt surged in, kissing him deeply as an answer.

Blaine said he had changed, yes, but it didn’t take just anybody to have Kurt kiss them in the middle of the sidewalk. Blaine didn’t seem to mind either, for a hand was curling around Kurt’s waist while the other was winding in his hair, bringing him closer, flushed against him.

Whether minutes or hours passed, Kurt did eventually break apart, surprising himself for breathing so heavily. As if Blaine had knocked his breath away. The other man seemed to be in a similar state, yet he was breaking out in a huge smile, one that fit his kiss-swollen lips quite well.

“I want to be with you, too,” Kurt whispered, his fingers idly tracing Blaine’s neck. The scary and thrilling realization oddly didn’t send his pulse hammering in his ears.  

“Good,” Blaine said, brushing their noses together as he grinned wider. “Because I don’t want to leave you, baby.”

Within the bustling streets of New York, on a busy sidewalk outside an elegant skyscraper, Blaine caused Kurt to do that rare thing again. To make him smile in a way that his teeth showed and his eyes squinted. So bright it could’ve lit up the dark sky overhead.

* * *

They didn’t return to the party.

Instead, their fingers kept interweaved, leisurely strolling them down the streets as they just talked. No one looked twice at them, even though they still had their suits on and practically had hearts popping up around their heads.

It was just them, laughing and teasing and doing whatever.

When Blaine confessed he had never even used a cab before, Kurt decided to fix that right up. He hailed one like an expert, and even held the door open when one arrived.

It took Kurt to his apartment building, and they shared a goodnight kiss outside his door. Again, just them. With Kurt’s arms looped around Blaine’s neck and Blaine’s hands steady on Kurt’s lower back. It was sweet and butterflies-in-stomach inducing, something Kurt expected only to happen when he was a teenager, not as a young adult.

They tried to say goodnight but always ended up with _one more kiss_ , until the driver of the taxi finally interrupted them with a, “Hey, buddy, we all don’t got the time!” Which only caused the two to giggle at each other and blush ridiculously. Blaine pecked Kurt’s lips once more before he finally headed back to the cab.

Kurt walked into 501 and suddenly felt exhausted. Was he really getting so old he couldn’t party as late as...three in the morning? He yawned, walking over to the couch to wake the sleeping Rachel. She first made a grumbling fit, but then got a good look at his rumpled shirt that somehow became untucked, his hair falling out of its coif, and the pinkness of his mouth.

She was followed with whisper-threats when she smirked and headed out.

Kurt didn’t even have the motivation to set up his bed, so he collapsed on top of the sofa and fell fast asleep in his suit instead, dreaming of handsome princes in blue tuxedos.

Of course, when morning came he was greeted with something from a nightmare.

The door knocking jerked him out of his slumber, and Kurt soon came to know of the morning sunlight brightening his living room. After grunting and rubbing his eyes, he also noticed how the knocking continued, meaning he needed to get up to answer it.

Trudging to the door with his suit a wrinkled mess and his hair probably even worse, Kurt sighed as he stretched his back, grabbing the handle and twisting it open.

He was met with a man that turned his blood to ice.

“Hey, Kurt,” the man said with his oh-so-familiar smile. “Long time, no see?”


	8. Chapter 8

Blaine couldn’t stop thinking about him, so naturally he decided to surprise Kurt that next morning.

He knew his boyfriend didn’t have to work Saturdays until later, so perhaps he could take him and Max out to eat brunch. As a way to celebrate that fantastic, amazing, _magical_ night out.

Wearing one of his red cardigans with black buttons and a checkered bowtie to match, Blaine took a deep breath outside Kurt’s apartment door, savoring the moment of his heart beating excitedly and his lips unable to stop beaming.

He knocked twice, folding his hands behind his back to wait.

When a minute passed and there was no response, Blaine knocked again, a bit slower, wondering if Kurt hadn’t heard or wasn’t even home.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Blaine was taken aback by the image of a clearly angry Kurt.

“Oh, thank god it’s you,” Kurt said, his expression relaxing before he flung into an embrace, holding Blaine tightly as he kissed his temple. “I’m so--it’s _you_ \--”

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Blaine asked, puzzled by this greeting even though he wasn’t complaining. Still, Kurt’s eyebrows had been drawn down and his cheeks were flushed. Something wasn’t right.

Kurt brought him inside, shutting the door behind them (although, it was verging on a _slam_ ) and lead Blaine to the living room, his shoulders tense, stride stiff.

“He... _he_ came here earlier,” Kurt told him through gritted teeth. “H-he had the _audacity_ to show up and...and…” He was shaking with rage, his hands balled into fists and his eyes darting back and forth at the ground. Whereas at any other time Blaine would be trying to calm Kurt down, he figured he was well beyond that point.

Instead, he slowly sat down on the green couch, hoping at least Kurt would follow suit. “Who?”

Kurt scowled at nothing in particular, then glanced at the hallway. “Max is still sleeping,” he said in a softer voice, moving to sit next to Blaine. His spine was still rigid and his breathing was heavy. “Thank god he didn’t wake when…” Pursing his lips tight, Kurt stared straight ahead, as if he was forcing the end of that thought away.

“Kurt,” Blaine cautiously reached for his hand, holding it carefully. “Baby, you’re starting to worry me. Now, what happened?”

Kurt snapped his head at him, his face still hard as stone but his eyes starting to widen, almost in horror. “ _He_ showed up this morning,” he whispered. “ _Liam_.”

“Who’s Liam?”

Kurt swallowed, those blue eyes watering. “He’s my ex-husband.”

If Blaine’s shock wasn’t visible on his face, then Kurt would’ve noticed with how he stopped breathing. How his grip on Kurt’s hand immediately tightened. “I--” It took a second for his heart to returned back to his proper position rather than plummeting to his feet. “Wh--”

“After all these years he thinks he can just,” Kurt threw his free hand up in the air, “come back like everything is normal! Do you know what he said to me? He asked if he could see Max again.” Kurt was furious, his teary eyes turning to ice. “As if I’d ever let him _near_ Max.”

“Okay, Kurt,” Blaine tried to begin gently, shifting so he could face him better. “How did he--”

“Find us? I don’t know! We moved right after the divorce because I never wanted him back into our lives after what he--” Kurt stopped, for his shaking had become too much. He exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment and loosening his grasp on Blaine’s hand. “He’s still in the city,” Kurt whispered. “He told me, after I yelled at him to get out of my sight, that he wouldn’t give up. That he’d keep trying to fix everything as _if_ he has that power.” Sighing, Kurt looked down at his knees.

Blaine was frozen, completely flabbergasted. What does one do in this situation that doesn’t involve finding this _ex-husband_ and charging through his door to beat the shit out of him? Rather than causing a possible crime, Blaine started rubbing across Kurt’s back as a soothing motion, feeling him relax under his touch.

“Should we call the police?”

“What would they do? It’s not like he’s _done_ anything.”

“....Want me to hire someone to get rid of him?”

Kurt sort of choked out a laugh, wiping his eyes and sniffing. “No, but thanks for the offer.” He blinked, taking a good look at Blaine, then quirking a curious smile. “Why did you come here, anyway?”

Blaine returned the smile. “I wanted to visit you. Before you left for work.”

Kurt’s smile stretched wider, which brought triumph in Blaine’s chest. “I needed you. Everything was so perfect and now…” He groaned. “Now I just want him gone. I want him on the other side of the country where he was and I want…” He bit down on his lip, the tears threatening to make a comeback.

“I could take you somewhere,” Blaine suddenly said, the idea popping in his mind. “Anywhere you want. It could be a vacation if you wanted.” Kurt turned to him, intrigued. “I mean...it’s a way to get away from him.”

Kurt’s mouth parted, then he slowly started nodding. “A vacation...god, I haven’t one of those in forever.”

Blaine was grinning again, just by seeing how much Kurt liked the idea. “So, any ideas?”

With a twist of his mouth, Kurt thought about it, then eyed Blaine with a tiny smirk. “How about Lima, Ohio?”

“Sure!” However, Blaine was a bit confused on why he didn’t choose a tropical island or even Paris. When Blaine said anywhere, he absolutely meant _any_ where. Perhaps he should’ve been more clear--

It seemed Kurt was reading his mind, for he told him, “Well, it’s only fair for you to meet _my_ family since I’ve already met yours.”

* * *

As it turned out, Max had never been on an airplane before.

It was amusing to watch him walk through security check while asking the guards why he just _had_ to put his stuffed Dalmatian on the conveyor belt.

Of course, Kurt held his hand tightly as they made their way to the departure lounge, while Kurt’s other hand was being linked with Blaine’s, occasionally kissed when he thought Kurt was becoming too stressed.

He had admitted to Blaine that he hadn’t traveled to Ohio since Max was a baby. Plane tickets were far too expensive, he had said. Even his parents didn’t have all the money to come out and visit him, so only phone calls kept them connected.

Blaine had heard them squeal in delight when Kurt told his parents the news over the phone a few nights ago.

One weekend. That’s all Kurt got off at work. He said Ronny was first surprised Kurt even wanted a vacation, for he had never used his days in the past. However, that shock was covered with his boss’s usual sneer, and he told Kurt he better be working twice as hard when he returned.

“Daddy, look! The houses are tiny!” Max said.

Kurt nodded and smiled enthusiastically. Blaine told them they’d have nothing less than First Class, especially since Kurt refused to fly on the Anderson’s private jet (“It’s just a phone call away!” “Blaine, you are seriously way too generous. Besides, regular air travel is just fine!”). The plush, leather seats were in sections of two, and while Blaine offered for him to sit by himself, Kurt said he was alright as long as they were across the aisle from where Max was. It worked out perfectly, seeing Max had dumped his backpack of toys on the empty seat next to him.

Kurt did give Blaine a look when he saw wine glasses were placed between their two seats. Blaine only smiled and gestured for him to sit down.

So, as the plane was up in the air, on its way to Ohio, Kurt and Blaine had a moment of privacy. The flight attendant just asked if they needed more wine, and Max was curled up in the customary blanket, chewing on some Cheetos with headphones over his ears, listening in on the small, personal television screen in front of him as it played _Finding Nemo_.

“I think he’s liking his first plane ride,” Kurt whispered to Blaine, smiling over at his son.

“Who wouldn’t? It has everything a five-year-old needs. Heights, food, and unlimited TV,” Blaine replied.

Kurt laughed, turning away from Max to look over at Blaine. “Thank you, for doing this.”

“Anything you need.” Blaine squeezed their clasped hands--something that had become inseparable ever since the plane took off.

Humming, Kurt’s eyes flickered down at them and he sighed. “I don’t have to worry about him for a whole weekend.”

Blaine opened his mouth, shifting in his seat as he realized what he needed to say, and how he knew this topic was going to be difficult and maybe even borderline forbidden to mention. “Kurt...what happened?”

His boyfriend hesitated, not looking at Blaine still. He blew out an exhale, rolling his neck, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth as a way to either procrastinate or ponder what he was going to respond. “Where do I even begin?” he said, mostly to himself. He glanced up at Blaine. “I guess at the beginning makes sense.”

The fingers weaved between Blaine’s squeezed harder. “His name is Liam Kelly. We, um, met our freshman year at NYADA. He wanted to write musicals and I wanted to star in them, so naturally we got along right away.

“He was my first _real_ love, Blaine. I had...crushes and sort-of boyfriends in high school, but never a relationship like that. Plus, when we first started dating I thought he was so perfect. Everyone loved him and I felt so lucky that he was mine that when…

“...that when he proposed our junior year I had to say yes.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. “You got married when you were twenty?”

Kurt nodded, staring at their linked hands again. “Yep. Not even a proper wedding, just...off to the courthouse and then a small party with our friends later. You should’ve heard my dad’s voice when I called him the day after…” He trailed off in soft chuckles.

“And, you know, Liam had told me early on when we were dating how much he wanted children. So, right after we graduated he brought the topic up, and I struck him down with logic and reality, but he said...he promised me that I could still go on and do Broadway and whatnot, while he was the stay-at-home dad. I couldn’t imagine another way to make us both happy, so I agreed.

“His parents were more than happy to pay for a surrogate, and before you know it, Max came into the world.”

They both looked across the aisle at the boy they were talking about. He was slumped far in his seat, still watching the movie, Cheeto crumbs all over his face and fingers.

Blaine smiled when he caught Kurt smiling, and he asked, “How old were you then?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Ah.”

“Mhmm.” Kurt nodded, his smile fading slightly. “Liam even tried to make me feel better about the whole situation with having _me_ be the biological father. He got to name him, though. He said ‘Max’ sounded like the name of a champion.” The fingers between Blaine’s tapped against his skin. “I thought it sounded like the name of a dog,” Kurt added quietly, a bit sad.

He inhaled deeply, sitting up straighter. “But, um...this was happening even before Max was born, but...you see, Liam was writing, and no one was buying his work. And he’s the sort of, ‘If I don’t get it right the first time, I’m a complete failure,’ type of person. So, he got so discouraged he, uh...well, he…” Kurt let out a deep breath, his voice faltering, making Blaine afraid he was going to fall into tears.

“He what?” Blaine asked gently, rubbing his thumb across Kurt’s.

For distraction, Kurt played with the end of his sweater, focused on that instead of Blaine’s face. “Well, he, um, he started drinking. A _lot_.” His voice was thick now, and Kurt swallowed harshly.

“You know, he was always drinking in college and I never thought it was going to be a bad _thing_ for him, until...until he was drinking because he was angry and stressed. And he started yelling a lot and even began throwing things and I _tried_ to calm him down but Max was crying in his crib and I…”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Blaine told him softly, soothing his thumb faster.

Kurt nodded to himself. “Yeah, well, one night he came home at like, I dunno, three A.M., and was stumbling on his feet and spitting curse words at my face. Saying how it was my fault he was a deadbeat or something. Then, Max started crying like how he always did when he was yelling, but I was yelling too and then…” He swallowed hard, chin wobbling. “And then...that’s when Liam said he was going to strangle that baby to get it to shut up.”

“Kurt--” Blaine breathed.

“No, trust me, that’s when I knew we were done. Between that and me being the only one supporting our tiny family while Liam got drunk every night...it was too much, and I wasn’t happy at all.” Sighing, as if to relieve the tension of the past, Kurt made a weak shrug. “It didn’t take long, the divorce. His reasoning was that married life was ‘limiting his opportunities in life.’”

Blaine looked away, feeling a twinge of guilt. “God…”

“I got custody of Max. Considering I had the job and sober lifestyle. And again, Liam was _perfectly_ okay with that. He packed up his bags and moved to Hollywood as fast as he could.” There was more anger than heartache in Kurt’s eyes now. “Believe me, Blaine. I would’ve never m-married someone if I knew they were going to turn out like th-that--” His voice broke, and he looked down at his knees.

“Hey, I know, it’s okay...” Blaine said again, placing his other hand over top their joined ones. Besides wooing, Blaine never considered himself good with words. He would give up anything just to say something that would make all Kurt’s troubles go away.

Kurt let out a breath through his nose, his shoulders relaxing. “Anyway, we’re not supposed to be worrying about him, right?” He managed a smile at Blaine. “We’re going to Ohio, and you’re going to meet my dad and stepmom, remember?”

All of Blaine’s blood vanished from his face, leaving him white as a sheet with that realization. “Oh, god. I’m going to be meeting your parents.”

Kurt’s face broke into a wide smile as he laughed, swiftly planting a kiss on Blaine’s cheek. “Don’t worry, they don’t bite. Well, my dad might be a little tough. But that’s ‘cause he’s my dad and...Blaine, please stop looking like I’ve announced your death date, you’re going to be _fine_.”

“Daddy! Blaine!” cried out Max, making them both turn in their seats. The young boy was sitting up on his knees, one Cheeto-covered hand pressed against the window glass while the other was pointing at it. “Look it! Look it! There’s lots of little cars!”

Right on cue, the flight attendant's voice came over the speakers. “ _Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Columbus. For your safety and comfort, remain seated and fasten your seat belts…_ ”

As Kurt stood to quickly help his son buckle up, Blaine clicked his own seat belt in place before taking his half-finished wine glass from his cup holder, releasing a breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding. Yes, he _was_ going to be fine.

Kurt returned, also buckling himself up and seeing what Blaine was holding, so he took his own glass, raising it a bit. “To family?”

Blaine huffed out a laugh. “To family.” And clinked his glass with Kurt’s, draining the rest of their beverage together.

He corrected his previous statement when he saw Kurt grinning after he caught Blaine’s eyes--They were _both_ going to be fine.

* * *

Blaine didn’t think he’d have such a short time to prepare.

Kurt’s parents--or, Burt and Carole, as he’d been informed--had decided to save them the trouble of renting a car and pick them up from the airport themselves. They were waiting at the departure lounge, Carole with her hands clasped in front of her with an excited smile, and Burt right next to her, hands in his jean pockets and a cap on his head.

Kurt waved to them, then whispered to Max, “Those are your grandparents. They send you Legos every Christmas.” With that news, Max tore away from Kurt’s hand and hurdled toward Carole, meeting her in a hug when she squatted down to his level. Blaine heard her coo on how big he had grown.

“Hey, Dad,” Kurt said, giving his father a hug.

After a few pats on the back, Kurt stepped away as Burt studied Blaine. “And, uh...who’s your friend?” Burt asked, squinting an eye.

“Blaine Anderson, sir,” Blaine said with his trademark grin, sticking out a hand and shaking Burt’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Uhuh.” Burt nodded, glancing at Kurt. “Sure is nice he paid for your tickets.”

“We got Top Class!” Max said up to him.

“ _First_ Class, Maxie,” Kurt corrected, his cheekbones turning a light shade of pink when he caught his father’s eyebrow raise.

The car ride to Lima was probably what the first stage of hell was like. Blaine’s heart was pounding in his chest, slamming in his ears, and he was certain he was sweating like a maniac.

Just because Burt was asking simple questions as he drove. Stuff like, “Where you from?” “What’s your job?” “How’d you and Kurt meet?” Occasionally, when Blaine felt his voice fail him, Kurt would pat his hand and answer for him.

He saw out of the side of his vision Kurt smirking at him. “What?” he whispered, glancing down at himself.

“You’re kind of cute when you get nervous,” Kurt whispered back, the corner of his lips curling up more.

“How’s school, Max?” Carole asked from the passenger seat, changing conversation to the five-year-old fiddling with one of his action figures.

“ _Grandma_ ,” Max sighed exasperatedly, his head falling backwards to stare at the roof. “School is _over_. Now, it’s summer!” He pumped his fists in the air and cheered.

The adults laughed, Blaine joining them as he felt some of the weight in his chest disappear. Sure, Kurt had told him several times that he was rusty with his relationship skills, but Blaine literally had no experience in this subject whatsoever.

First time for everything, he supposed.

The Hummel-Hudson’s house was nothing less than homey: modest and cozy and fitting the small town Ohio feel. Dinner was lovely, and no one questioned more about Blaine’s ‘family business’, thank god. Max was the chatterbox, rattling on about the plane ride or the visit to the zoo or how his teacher brought cookies on their last day of kindergarten and Max got an extra one because one girl didn’t like cinnamon cookies.

Blaine would occasionally catch Kurt’s eye across the table, silently sending the question, _Am I doing this right?_

Which Kurt would reply with a reassuring smile. _Don’t worry._

Burt made it very clear when night time came that Blaine would sleep downstairs on the sofa. While Kurt was annoyed at his father, Blaine was more than happy to oblige, especially at the glares he had received from Burt during the evening. He didn’t exactly want to be on his boyfriend’s dad’s bad side when they just met.

The sofa in the darkened living room was comfy. It wasn’t like Kurt’s back at the apartment, with a bed that could be set up from it, but Blaine did have a fleece blanket to keep him warm (thanks to Carole, who wished him sweet dreams before turning off the lights). Blaine laid there with his socked feet crossed over the opposite armrest where his head was resting, one arm on his stomach while the other was bent behind his pillow.

He couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how long he stared up at the ceiling fan--his constant hum of sound. His mind was still on the train of thought of how foreign this whole concept was, and how he was actually experiencing it all for the first time at twenty-eight.

Blaine never had to meet any of his past lover’s parents. He never stayed overnight at said parent’s house. It all felt so...serious to his and Kurt’s relationship. They were taking these milestones together, and that thought made a corner of his mouth twitch upwards.

He wasn’t sure of the hour, but suddenly there was sound of feet shuffling, then a faint light was turned on.

Sitting up, Blaine craned his head around the couch. In the kitchen the light of the refrigerator illuminated the figure standing there, carrying Max against his chest.

Kurt reached in and grabbed something, hauling it out with one hand as he closed the door with his hip. He turned carefully, setting the jug of milk on the small island. Max made a soft noise, but Kurt shushed him, heading over to a cupboard and grabbing a drinking cup.

The light of the microwave was the next thing to brighten the kitchen area. Kurt had poured milk in the glass and now placed it in the microwave, pushing a few buttons and closing the door, all one-handed. He turned, rocking Max a little as the microwave heated the milk.

It was then he caught Blaine staring, and he stopped. “Oh, did I wake you?” he whispered across the room.

Blaine shook his head, but just as he remembered how all the lights were off, the microwave beeped. Kurt quickly opened it and took out the cup, tasting it himself before shutting the door with his elbow.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to Blaine as he walked over to the living room with Max in one arm and the milk being held with his free hand. “Max couldn’t sleep.”

“It’s fine,” Blaine whispered back, sitting back even more to make room on the couch for Kurt to sit. “I was awake anyway.”

“Really?” Kurt carefully sat down, adjusting Max to sit on his lap. “Why’s that?”

His son made a groaning sound, lifting his head up from Kurt’s chest and blinking a little groggily. “Blaine?” he asked, not as quietly as the adults.

“Hey, kiddo,” Blaine whispered, nudging his arm. He was wearing those _Star Wars_ pajamas Blaine had seen before, with Darth Vader and Stormtroopers on the button-up top. “What’s the problem?”

“New house,” Kurt answered for him. “New bed. Just a bunch of different.” He shuffled Max so he was sitting with his legs facing Blaine instead of on either side of Kurt’s hips. “Max, be careful,” he warned before slowly handing his son the cup of warm milk.

Max nodded, holding the cup between both hands as he took a few sips. Sighing, Kurt relaxed against the couch and looked over at Blaine. “Why are you up?”

Blaine shrugged. “New house?” he joked, scooting a bit closer so he could drape his arm across the back, almost so it was around Kurt. “I dunno, I was thinking.”

“About?”

He caught Max staring up at him with big eyes, continuing to drink his milk but blinking like he was also waiting Blaine to answer. Quirking his lips up into a smile, Blaine told Kurt, “Yucky adult things.” He winked at Kurt just as Max scrunched his nose and wrinkled his brow.

Kurt’s lips made a smile, too. “Ah.” He nodded, understanding.

“Do you like being home?” Blaine asked.

“Mhmm.” Petting back Max’s mussed hair, Kurt sighed. “It’s a little weird, I guess. Just because, this is my childhood house but New York is what I think of as home.” He looked at Blaine. “Does that make sense?”

“Grandpa’s gonna take me to the shop tomorrow!” Max interrupted, milk on his upper lip and his voice being so loud Kurt had to shush him quickly. “There’s cars in there that he fixes,” he said quieter to Blaine.

“Whoa, that’s cool!” Blaine said excitedly but softly.

“But you don’t get to go if you don’t sleep,” Kurt said, giving Max an arched eyebrow.

“But I’m not…” Max yawned, “ _tired_ , Daddy.”

“Oh, I bet.” Kurt smirked as he began rubbing Max’s back.

Blaine took the partially finished glass of milk from Max’s hands before he became too numb to have it spill all over his blanket, placing it on the coffee table. Kurt was a natural at this, knowing exactly what to do to make Max’s eyes droop sleepily, precisely what remedy to cure a five-year-old’s insomnia. It only made Blaine’s heart swell with more admiration for his boyfriend.

“Sing the song, Daddy?” Max asked, tilting his head back to look up at his father.

Kurt hesitated, glancing at Blaine. “Oh, Maxie...not tonight--”

“Please?” Max begged, clasping his hands together like a prayer. “Pretty please? Blaine, ask him to, please?”

“I dunno, Max.” Blaine rolled his shoulders, giving the boy an apologetic face. “Your dad seems pretty tired to me…”

“Can _you_ sing it?” Max asked, kicking his legs up to rest his feet on Blaine’s leg. “Please?”

He saw Kurt trying to bite back a smile. Blaine was now the one hesitating, unsure how to react. Kurt was the one with the parenting skills, not him. How was he supposed to deny that pleading look Max was giving him, including sticking his bottom lip out in a pout.

“I don’t know the song,” Blaine said, which wasn’t a complete lie.

“It’s the blackbird song,” Max explained, scooting closer and therefore making Kurt move nearer to Blaine as well, to the point where Blaine’s arm was properly around his shoulders. He ducked his head when Blaine wiggled his eyebrows at him. “It’s like, _blackbird singin’ in the dead of da...take a broken wing and la da da…_ ” Max sang this while swaying his head back and forth, staring at Blaine and hoping he was paying close attention.

Kurt was waiting too, like he was expecting Blaine to take what he learned and put it to good use. Coughing, Blaine resituated his posture and said to Max, “Listen, that song sounds lovely, but sadly I could never match your dad’s version of it.”

Max just pouted his lip out farther as Kurt broke out in a dimpled smile. “Then sing your own song, Blaine,” he said, voice laced with flirtation.

Between that and Max’s big puppy-dog eyes, Blaine caved. He rolled his neck and sighed dramatically, unable to fight back his own wide smile. “ _Fine_ , I will.”

In their victorious success, the Hummels got comfortable--and much to Blaine’s delight, that meant Kurt snuggled to his side, tucking his legs under himself and resting his head on Blaine’s shoulder. Max’s head was against his father’s chest, but his feet were propped up on Blaine’s leg still. He grabbed Blaine’s blanket and claimed partial ownership, tugging it to cover both him and Kurt as well.

Blaine chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to the top of Kurt’s head while the arm draped along the couch came to wrap around Kurt’s back. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” Blaine whispered only to him.

His boyfriend simply hummed in reply.

Accepting his fate and hoping Kurt was too drowsy to even remember it in the morning, Blaine began singing softly, somewhat tentative at first, but it was the first song he thought of that was similar to the infamous ‘ _Blackbird_.’

“ _There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done...there’s nothing you can sing that can’t be sung…_ ”

Max was yawning again, and he shuffled down to get in a more relaxing position as his eyelids came to a shut.

“ _All you need is love…_ ” Blaine continued, watching Kurt’s eyelids also slip closed and his breathing slowing. “ _All you need is love, love…_ ” The corners of his mouth lifted at the sight of the gorgeous, peaceful face against his shoulder. “ _Love is all you need…_ ”

“You have a beautiful singing voice,” Kurt murmured, eyes still closed but his mouth hinting at a smirk. “By the way.”

The corners lifted higher. “Goodnight, Kurt.” He pressed his lips to the top of Kurt’s hair again, a moment longer this time.

In the dark of a small town, Ohio living room, Blaine took in the scene. Quite literally wrapped in his arms was the greatest, strongest person he ever met and had given his heart to, and nestled under the blanket with them was that person’s wonderful child. Both of them sleeping soundly, both of them at Blaine’s side.

At that moment, Blaine realized that if love was all you needed, then he had everything right here.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOA! And early chapter because I realized that tomorrow, aka the day I wanted to publish it, I was busy all day! So, here ya go!  
> Also, I realized I haven't properly said this, but...whoa. I am so overwhelmed by the feedback I've received. Thank you guys so much, I love you from the bottom of my heart :)

“That’s Captain America. He’s my favorite.”

Kurt cracked a smile against his coffee mug as Blaine nodded seriously, turning back to the TV in the living room. Max had dragged him from the kitchen table right as they finished breakfast, since Kurt was too busy helping Carole gather up the dishes and Max just absolutely _needed_ someone to sit cross-legged with him in front of his morning cartoons.

Blaine then replied that Iron Man was his personal favorite, causing Max to stare at him for ten whole seconds before shrugging and explaining exactly who Iron Man was battling at the moment.

“Well, Max certainly likes him,” Burt said, coming up at Kurt’s side and leaning against the counter as well, crossing his arms while also watching the duo in the living room.

Kurt hummed and tilted his head to the right. “Believe me, Max adores him.”

“And, uh…” Burt coughed and shifted on his feet. “You do too, I’m guessing?”

Mouth forming a frown, Kurt glared at his father. He knew this moment would come, when his father would regress back to when Kurt was a teenager, when Burt was trying to ‘talk guys’ with him. When he was unsure how to react to Kurt’s first boyfriend or crush.

“ _Dad_ ,” Kurt started, annoyed tone sounding more like his teenage self.

“Look, I’m just asking.” Burt held up a palm in defense. “I just met the guy, I don’t know what to think of him. All I know is he shows up, pays for that hospital bill, buys you a fancy plane ticket...goes out of his way to take you and Max--”

“Dad,” Kurt said more firmly, gripping his mug with both hands, “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not like that.”

“Then what’s it like?” Burt turned to face Kurt better, his jaw set in a challenge. He was going to strike down whatever Kurt said, he knew it, too. While Kurt wanted to remain angry, he understood. He was a father himself, after all.

“He’s not like Liam,” Kurt dropped his voice, catching how Burt’s jaw clenched. “Dad, trust me. Blaine’s sweet and kind and cares about me and Max.”

“But how do you know?” his dad asked. “You’ve only been with this guy, for what, a month?” Sighing, Burt shook his head. “I dunno, kid. From what I’ve seen and what I _know_...he just…” He glanced up at Kurt. “Are you sure he’s not just...using you?”

There was that slight twinge in his gut that he got after his conversation with Cooper, but Kurt remained standing tall. “No, Dad. He’s not.” His eyes wandered over to their topic of conversation, where Blaine was still sitting on the living room carpet, listening to whatever Max was rambling on about. “He’s...different.”

He knew his dad was giving him that suspicious squint, so Kurt looked back at him, raising his eyebrows. “I’m an adult, remember? You can trust me to make my own decisions. You don’t need to feel, protective of me or anything.”

With that, Burt gave him a smile that lifted higher at one corner. “I’m your dad, feeling protective is my job.”

Kurt laughed. “Even when I’m twenty-eight?”

“ _Especially_ when you’re twenty-eight.”

They fell into silence as they watched Blaine and Max again, Kurt finishing his coffee and basking in the quietness of morning. Max was the one to wake them all up, naturally. His bony knees and elbows digging into Kurt and Blaine’s stomachs as he attempted to get free of the blanket they all shared during the night.

He loved how peaceful Ohio was compared to his insane life in New York, but he didn’t regret leaving it. Ohio was tame and a welcoming vacation, but it was so...stagnant. New York had the liveliness Kurt had always craved for.

“So, how did Max react when you told him?” Burt asked, bringing Kurt back from his train of thoughts.

Seeing Kurt’s slightly confused expression, Burt added, “Told him about you and Blaine?”

“Oh.” He had never told him, not even after Blaine stayed over at the apartment for the first time. Max never really questioned anything, did he even notice how Blaine was holding Kurt’s hand or kissing his cheek? Was that at the top of the five-year-old’s concerns?

Kurt huffed out a breath, taking another sip of his coffee. Well, he was going to find out, sooner than later.

* * *

“Maxie?” Kurt asked, helping his son pop his head through his yellow t-shirt. “You like Blaine, right?”

Max nodded, a smile making his already round face even rounder. They were in Kurt’s old bedroom, emptier than when he had permanently lived there, the closet only holding storage boxes and their opened suitcases instead of fashionable clothing. The bed still needed to be made, even though he and Max had spent a small portion of the night in it.

“He said Iron Man was his favorite,” Max told him.

Kurt smiled. “I know, I heard.” He dropped his hands to his knees before rubbing the back of his neck. This was a first for Kurt, he never even thought he’d be in this situation. All of those ‘almosts’ were gone too fast Kurt hadn’t mentioned them to Max.

He blew out a long breath. “Hey, you know how me and Blaine hang out a lot?”

Max nodded. “You’re always sitting by each other. He’s always holding your hand like you hold mine.”

Kurt chuckled, certain Blaine was holding his hand for different reasons than for crossing traffic or the risk of running off. “Yep. You’re right.” He bit his bottom lip, getting his eyes locked on Max’s. They were blue, like his, but had more copper specks in them, making the shade a tad darker. “You remember how Santana has a girlfriend, right? That she’s dating her?”

Max scrunched his nose. “Ick.”

“Ick?”

“Girlfriends are icky. Eva at school wanted to be my girlfriend and I said no but she kept chasing me.”

Kurt tried to stifle his laugh. Oh, the drama of kindergarten. “But I’ll never have a girlfriend, you know that.”

Max nodded again. “You like boys and you said that that’s okay. That some people like boys and some people like girls and some people like both.”

“Mhmm.” Okay, maybe this might be easier than he expected. Kurt chose his words carefully, getting in a more comfortable kneeling position than his previous squat. “And Blaine likes boys too, you know.”

Hearing that, Max’s mouth hung open. “Really?”

“Really,” Kurt replied, nodding along to Max’s over-dramatic reaction. “And...you remember how Blaine and I sit by each other and hold hands a lot?”

Cogs were working in Max’s brain, like he was trying to solve what exactly his father was trying to explain.

“Well, that’s because…” Kurt exhaled. “Blaine is my boyfriend.”

If it was possible, Max’s jaw just hung lower. He made a big show of squinting his eyes and dropping his shoulders. “Whaaaaat?”

The weight of worry on his chest lifted as Kurt laughed. “What do you mean, ‘whaaaaat?’”

“He’s your _boyfriend?_ ”

“Yes, Max.”

“How?!” Max threw his hands up in the air. “You have to kiss someone to be their boyfriend!”

“Well, how do you know we haven’t kissed?” Kurt asked, smirking and poking his son’s belly.

Max grimaced at that statement and shook his head fiercely, saying, “Ewww!” Kurt laughed maniacally, going in to tickle under Max’s armpits to have him squeal and squirm.

When they controlled their laughter and breathing, Kurt pushed away some stray hair and put on a gentler smile. “So, you’re okay with that? With me and Blaine dating?”

Max shrugged. “Yeah.” He looked down at his yellow shirt, then at the door. “Is Grandpa gonna take me to the shop soon?”

Sighing, Kurt stood and told him yes, following him as he rushed out the door and down the hall. If only everyone had the simple, accepting, and easily distracted mind of a child.

* * *

In that early afternoon, Kurt found Blaine on the back porch, pacing as he talked on his cell phone.

Carole had work to do around the house and Burt was occupied with Max, so truly it had been the first time they had been alone. Kurt did halt in his tracks after he slid open the screen door, seeing Blaine’s back and catch him in the middle of a sentence.

“...just shut up, okay? You’re not the boss of me, Cooper, stop treating me like a--” Blaine cut off when he turned on his heel, meeting Kurt’s eyes. “Hey, I gotta go, alright? I’ll call you back. Maybe.” It was probably intentional Blaine hung up before any goodbyes could be said, but he smiled and walked to Kurt. “Hey, there.”

“Hi, you.” Kurt said, shutting the door behind him and taking a step towards Blaine, who was now typing out a text message. “Sibling problems?”

Blaine scowled. “Ugh, more like Cooper’s-an-ass problems.” He glanced up at Kurt and smiled. “I’m texting Tina now, double checking on Lacy.”

“Uhuh.” Kurt nodded, wanting to question more about these mysterious people in Blaine’s life. He figured they were just part of the Anderson’s hotel business, or maybe Lacy was another assistant--?

Blaine finished and put his phone away in the back pocket of his white shorts, giving Kurt another dazzling smile before reaching out to wrap his arms around his torso. “Lacy had a nice, long walk in the park then took a nap on the couch,” he informed Kurt.

Kurt’s mouth opened, not quite sure how to respond to that. Chuckling at his reaction, Blaine added, “Lacy’s a dog, Kurt.”

“Oh!” Kurt’s shoulders relaxed, even though Blaine was still laughing adoringly. “You have a dog?”

“Well, yeah,” Blaine said. “Why did you think I missed some of our lunch dates? I mean, I know she loves Tina more because Tina likes to spoil her with treats.”

“Damnit, Tina.”

“I know, right? It’s a disaster, and technically manipulation.”

Kurt threw his head back and laughed, reaching around to catch one of Blaine’s hands and link it with his own. “Oh, wow. But I’m guessing the deal with Cooper is worse?”

Blaine’s smile transformed into an exasperated sigh as he allowed Kurt to lead him down the porch steps and across the backyard. “He’s just...being Cooper. Trying to get me to come to company meetings and whatever, then getting angry when I say no.”

“Why are you saying no?” Kurt asked.

The summer sun was bright, filtering down through the leaves of the tree Kurt was heading under. It had branches jutting out far enough to hold up the swinging bench, the creamy paint chipped through the years.

“Because,” Blaine replied, waiting for Kurt to sit down first before he did, pushing his feet against the grass to have them begin a gentle swing, “I don’t _want_ to. He doesn’t get it--no one does. That I don’t...want…” He pursed his lips, rubbing the back of his neck and staring away from Kurt. “...to be stuck in a stupid business position. Where all they do is meetings and phone calls and paperwork and--” He cut off on his own, scoffing at nothing.

Kurt nodded, bending a leg and sitting so he could face Blaine better, skimming a hand to Blaine’s shoulder and tracing patterns against the robin’s egg blue polo fabric. “That kind of job isn’t for everyone.”

“But I _get_ why he wants me to!” Blaine said. “Because it’s the family company and it’s in the name but…and then how he treated you and I just--” He exhaled deeply, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “No, I’m not worrying about any of that crap now.” He turned to smile at Kurt. “What’s new with you?” After he saw the look Kurt gave him, he smiled bigger, more genuine. “C’mon, I’m serious. This is a vacation, right? To get away from the bad?”

“You’re right.” Kurt nodded again, twisting his mouth and looking at the fingers at Blaine’s shoulder, only glancing at his face when he said, “Well, I told Max about our relationship.”

“Wait, really?” Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. “He didn’t already know?”

Kurt shrugged. “I guess not. I may have also revealed that we _kissed_ ,” he ended that in a whisper, letting Blaine know the seriousness of it. “He was pretty shocked and grossed out, by the way.”

Blaine cracked up, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Oh, geesh. Poor kid.”

“He’ll survive.” Kurt laughed with him, giving their swing another push with his toe. When was the last time he was on this bench? Right before he moved on to New York? His problems were so much simpler back then, worrying about finding an apartment to share with Rachel and deciding what classes he wanted to take.

“What are you thinking about, baby?” Blaine asked, tilting his head and batting those ridiculously long eyelashes he had.

“About this bench, weirdly,” Kurt said, watching his fingers walk up to Blaine’s collar, play with the folded fabric. “It was my mom’s, before she died. She would read to me out here during the summer, and when I learned how to read myself we would sit together side-by-side for hours, lost in our own book.”

“Aw,” Blaine cooed, a corner of his mouth curling up. “My grandma had a little garden at her house in Westerville. Although, it’s not as cute as your story. Cooper would push me so I fell on the flowers.”

Kurt’s attention snapped up. “Westerville? As in Ohio’s Westerville?”

“Yeah. We used to go there for holidays. It’s where my dad grew up.”

Kurt felt his jaw hanging. “That’s only, like, a couple hours away!”

“I know! Weird, isn’t it?” Blaine laughed.

Weird? Definitely. More like an odd coincidence. A crazy happenstance, a funny look at fate.

Kurt shook out of his contemplation when Blaine asked, “So Max really is cool with us being...us?”

Nodding, Kurt found himself smiling again. It was hard not to around Blaine. “He’s crazy about you.” The hand resting on his lap floated over, naturally finding home winding between Blaine’s olive-toned fingers--a tint darker thanks to the June sun. “I mean, I am too. But I figured that was already established.”

Chuckling again, Blaine gave their fingers a squeeze before lifting their linked hands up to plant a kiss on Kurt’s knuckles. Kurt gave him a look that he knew involved his cheeks pinkening, so Blaine kissed them again, this one added with a wide grin.

When he pulled back and met Kurt’s eyes, something happened. The joyous laughter making the hazel color shine softened, putting Blaine’s expression in a serious state. He was looking at Kurt in a way that made Kurt feel like he was exposed, that Blaine was drinking him in, soul and all.

“I need to tell you something,” Blaine said, voice close to breathless.

“Okay,” Kurt said, surprised to hear how he sounded similar to his boyfriend. He wasn’t scared or worried, so to say. Though the pounding of his heartbeat indicated he was close to being unable to handle any anticipation.

Blaine looked down at their hands, swiping his thumb over Kurt’s fingers and swallowing, covering them with his free hand and finally lifting his head up. If anything, Blaine was the one worried here. Even if there was another emotion mixed there Kurt couldn’t place a name on...or denied it’s label out of apprehension.

“I was thinking about it last night, while we were sleeping…” Blaine began slowly.

“Before or after we commandeered your couch?” Kurt joked lightly.

It eased some tension off of Blaine’s stance, making him chuckle. “After. It was when I had sang to you two and then you guys fell asleep and...I couldn’t _stop_ thinking about it. It was like the earth had fallen into this perfect place. Like nothing could go wrong ever again simply because you were _there_ and because of how much I--” He paused, drawing his lips inward and exhaling through his nose. “Now, Kurt, I...I-I don’t expect you to say anything in return because, well I know how it’s been for you and the problems you’re dealing with now and maybe you don’t even need to hear this--”

“Blaine,” Kurt cut in, remembering how to speak. “What is it?”

There was a moment of quiet, when neither of them moved as Blaine locked his gaze on Kurt, his golden eyes honest and vulnerable, so full of warmth Kurt didn’t dare breathe.

“I’m in love with you.”

It felt like centuries, but Kurt did breathe. His lungs emptied, and his pulse had skipped a beat only to come back on track and work double time.

“You--”

“Like I said, you don’t have to--” Blaine shook his head, holding Kurt’s hand firmly between his. “I just, I needed you to know. God, was this too soon?”

Kurt forgot to respond right away, for his thoughts were doing cartwheels. His very body wanted to do a million things at once: run, jump, burst into fireworks. Instead he remained frozen, his mouth surely parted in surprise.

He blinked, wetting his dry throat and shaking his head. “No! No, I mean, I--thank you.” Now he wanted to slap himself, with how much of a juvenile reply that was.

Yet Blaine had relaxed into a relieved smile. “You’re not freaked out?”

“No, absolutely not.” He huffed out a laugh, suddenly feeling light-headed. “It’s just, you’re right. I’m not ready to...say _that_ yet but…” Catching how Blaine’s huge smile was absolutely giddy, he giggled. “You meant it?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Blaine breathed, dropping his hands to cup them around Kurt’s neck, doing the best he could on their wooden swing to lean forward and kissed him deeply, summing up all the passion he had said. “I love you so much, I--” He only covered his lips again, unable to stop himself.

To keep himself from floating from all the bliss, Kurt gripped the front of Blaine’s polo. It was strange, to think. For Kurt had pictured himself in this position before, where the terrifying ‘L’ word would come his way. Except he had always thought he’d be frightened, shielding himself away from what that word had given him before.

Blaine’s mouth was opening with his, and Kurt hummed. He wasn’t scared now, he didn’t feel like hiding away. Yes, the concept was grand and exhilarating, but for the first time Kurt could associate another word to go with the ‘L’ one, a word he hadn’t felt completely in a long time.

 _Safe_.

* * *

Their weekend ended up at the Columbus airport again, saying goodbyes at the departure lounge.

Carole was giving Kurt a tight hug, rubbing his back in circles. “Promise me you’ll call more often?” She asked, pulling back just so she could look at his face. “And if you’re having any problems. We’re just a plane ride away, we can--”

“I know, Carole.” Kurt smiled, pecking her cheek. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine.”

His stepmother looked close to tears as she smiled back, turning to Blaine now. “Oh, it was so nice to meet you,” she said to him, holding her arms out to also embrace him.

Blaine chuckled, dropping his bag to hug her back. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t going to miss her motherly attention: the flower perfume, the doting hugs, the delicious brownies she baked them as goodbye.

Carole gave one last squeeze before separating, raising her eyebrows at him. “You take care of them, okay?” she whispered, quiet enough the other men couldn’t hear.

He nodded seriously. “Yes, ma’am.”

She smiled and patted his cheek, finishing the farewells by bending down and wrapping her arms around Max, kissing the top of his hair. “You promise to stay out of trouble?” she asked.

“Grandma, I _never_ get in trouble,” Max defended.

Burt had stepped forward, glancing between both Kurt and Blaine. Kurt simply waited for him to say something, while Blaine was focused on appearing level-headed, preparing for the worst.

“Well,” Burt decided, sticking a hand out to Blaine. “It was certainly nice meeting you, Blaine.”

Blaine exhaled, and before Kurt could remind him to move his limbs, he clasped Burt’s hand and shook it. “You too, sir.”

“You’ll be good to my son?” Burt asked, keeping his grip on Blaine’s hand.

Setting his jaw, Blaine nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He could actually feel Kurt rolling his eyes, probably at how formal they were acting, but Burt dropped their hands, actually smiling at them. “Well, you better get going. Your flight leaves soon.”

“I’m gonna miss you, Dad,” Kurt said, exchanging a final hug with his father.

The door was opened, and people were gathering their things to board. Max hitched up his Captain America backpack, pumping his fists in the air. “First Seats, woo!”

“First _Class_ , Maxie,” Kurt corrected, catching Max’s arm before he ran on the plane without them. He gave one final wave to his parents, taking the handle of his suitcase and turning to the doorway, Blaine and Max following at his side.

“Ready to go home?” Blaine asked.

Kurt looked over at him. Home meant back to his crappy job, back to his small apartment. It meant returning to responsibilities and having to deal with the inevitable problem of his ex-husband.

However, Kurt gave him a small smile, grasping his hand. “Yeah, I think I am.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sam may be the greatest friend in the universe, but he was horrible at talking about guys.

“Wait, so you haven’t banged yet?”

Blaine rolled his eyes, the crosswalk sign changing, indicating for him and the crowd to cross the street. He pressed his cell phone closer to his ear as he checked the time on his watch, making sure he wasn’t too early for Kurt’s lunch break. “ _No_ , okay. We’re taking it slow, I told you that.”

“I know, but still…” Sam whistled low from the other line. “I thought, that _something_ would’ve happened.”

“I told him I loved him,” Blaine said, trying to pass as nonchalant when really that fact almost made him beam with happiness.

Either Sam dropped something or he fell to the floor. “Hold up--what?” Blaine could practically see his friend’s eyes bugging. “You-- _you_ , Blaine Anderson...told...a guy...that you loved him? This is a real thing?”

Blaine laughed, his heart soaring. “Yes!”

“I...Blaine Anderson? The dude who avoids commitment at all costs? Where did he go?” Sam’s voice dropped. “Is this even Blaine? Or is it his _doppelganger?_ ”

“Ha ha, you’re very funny.”

“For real! Kurt deserves an award or something. Maybe he’s like a Blaine-whisperer--”

“Sorry, Sam. I’m at the diner, gotta go!” With that, Blaine hung up and stuffed the phone in his jean pocket, pushing open the Spotlight Diner’s door.

It wasn’t too crowded, just a dozen or so people grabbing a bite to eat in between work. He caught Max sitting at the bar, a coloring book opened in front of him and a blue crayon held tightly in his fist. With summer break, he must be here more often.

Blaine was about to go join him as he waited for his dad, when the door behind him opened, having another customer come in and run right into Blaine.

Startled, Blaine turned around on instinct, meeting face-to-face with a taller man, one who probably was about to shout, “ _Hey, watch it!_ ” but quickly composed himself, lowering the hand holding his cell phone and putting on a thin smile. “Sorry about that.”

Blaine narrowed his eyes. Something about this man wasn’t settling well in his veins. Dark blonde hair cut short, sun-kissed skin, and grey eyes that seemed to be focused, searching around.

“Hey, um...do you come here often? Like, do you know the people here?” the man asked him.

Crossing his arms, Blaine tried to appear taller. “Sort of.”

“Alright, awesome!” The man smiled. “Is there a waiter named Kurt here?”

So this was Liam.

This was the man who broke Kurt’s heart and left him alone. This was the guy whose very presence sent Kurt in a rage, shaking and crying. This man drunkenly threatened Max’s life when he was just a baby.

Before there was a chance of people being shoved into tables and fists slamming into skulls, someone behind tapped Blaine’s shoulder. He spun, seeing the tight smile of Santana, also looking like she was fighting with all her might to not spit fire.

Her eyes kept fixed on him and not the other person craning his head around the restaurant. “Blaine, it’s so nice to see your gel-helmet again,” she said through gritted teeth. “If you wouldn’t mind, Steve Rogers would like to talk to you.”

Blaine nodded slowly, allowing her to lead him away, her arm linked with his. When they were out of earshot, she tugged him close and hissed in his ear, “Take Max and get him out of here.”

Nodding again, Blaine let her walk away to the kitchen, her hands balled tight into fists. He went over to Max, seeing how his Captain America bag was slumped next to his stool, filled with other coloring books or children’s books from the library. After bending to grab it, Blaine whispered next to Max’s ear, “Hey there, kiddo.”

Max gasped and looked about ready to yell hello, but Blaine shushed him quickly, taking his coloring book (this time it was all about jungle animals) and placed it in the backpack. “Shh, you have to be quiet. Your dad says I can take you to, um, go get a cupcake across the street if you're good and quiet.”

Pressing his lips shut and smiling, Max helped scoop the crayons up as well. Blaine swallowed hard, trying to remain level headed and facing Max. For if he turned back around and saw the man at the doorway again...he wouldn’t know how he’d control his anger.

“Is Daddy coming too?” Max asked in the best whisper he could, watching Blaine swing the thin strap of the backpack around his shoulder before he hauled up Max, propping him at the hip.

Blaine shook his head, shushing him again and he quickly strode to the door--thankfully free of Liam. Although, that could mean…

Standing halfway out the diner’s door, Blaine turned and saw Kurt, standing frozen at the entrance of the kitchen. His apron was gone and his face was white. He was probably just starting his lunch break, ready to gather Blaine and Max. Instead, he was facing Liam, who already seemed to be starting a conversation.

Kurt’s eyes flitted across the restaurant and met with Blaine’s. When he saw that Max was safe in his arms, his shoulders relaxed a notch. While he wished he could stay and support Kurt at his side, Blaine knew this was the best option.

He gave his boyfriend a tiny smile that hopefully read, _Courage, darling_ before exiting with Max, the diner’s door swinging behind them.

* * *

“ _Leave_.”

“Kurt, we need to talk--”

“No, we don’t. Now _go!_ ”

“I am not leaving until you listen to me!”

Which is what lead Kurt to storm into the break room they had in the back. A cramped, white-walled room that only held a refrigerator and circular table with two folding chairs. Then again, he’d rather unleash his anger here than in the middle of the restaurant or on the sidewalk.

Liam was right at his heels, trying to talk over the noise of the kitchen staff. Only when the break room’s door was shut behind them he finally got to take a breath, saying in a calm voice, “Kurt, I know this is hard.”

 _Hard?_ Hard is trying to support a young child in New York City when you work as a waiter. Hard is getting the bills paid on time. Hard is trying to keep a strong face for your little boy when inside you’re stressed and broken when you’re not even thirty. This wasn’t hard. This was hell.

“What are you doing here?” Kurt spat out, crossing his arms over his uniform shirt and glaring up at his ex-husband.

It had been five years, and Liam still had features Kurt remembered all too well. Tall and fit body, determined grey eyes speckled with green. His skin looked tanner, thanks to the California sun. He wore a turquoise blue shirt and khaki shorts, as if he just came off the beach. There were no more dark bags under his eyes, no more facial hair growing along his jawline. Compared to the image Kurt had last seen him as, he looked more well-put together.

Liam cleared his throat and straightened his back, as if preparing a speech. “I am here to fix this, I told you.”

“There’s nothing you can _fix--_ ”

“Now, I know you might still be angry.”

“‘ _Might?_ ’” Kurt scoffed, shaking his head with wide, incredulous eyes. “It’s your fault that ‘this’ has been broken. You repulse me.”

Liam closed his eyes for a moment and exhaled, like he was dealing with a child having a ridiculous temper tantrum. “Baby, you don’t understand, I want to--”

“I’m not your ‘baby.’” Kurt snapped. “I’ll never be your ‘ _baby_ ’ again.”

This retort actually caused a brief second of shock in Liam’s eyes, but he quickly recovered. “Listen,” he said, dropping the calm and patient performance. “I’ve gotten back on track, alright? For _you_. I straightened up my act, and I even went to rehab. I figured out my life and...hell, I even got a job!” He smiled, expecting Kurt to be thrilled. “I’m writing for a magazine!”

“Wow, congratulations,” Kurt said, deadpan. “Why don’t you go and live your wonderful life _back_ in California--”

“Kurt.” Liam stopped him before he bypassed out the door. His hands reached and rested on Kurt’s shoulders, staring into his eyes. Kurt felt like he was going to puke. Blaine did that gesture to calm him down. Having Liam doing it felt sickening, a taint to the blissful image.

“You can’t deny that we had it good,” Liam continued. “We were a team! We were married and...were just starting a family--”

“Yes, _were_. Past-tense. Meaning, not anymore.” Kurt shoved his arms away, stepping aside. “I don’t need you anymore, Liam. Now, _leave_.”

Liam looked torn between wanting to yell and keeping poised. “At least let me see Max.”

“NO.”

“Kurt--”

“No!” Kurt was trying to push past him, desperate to grab the door handle and yank it open. That was crossing the line, was the breaking point to end this chat.

“He’s my son--!”

“No, he’s mine!” Kurt’s attempts were resisted by Liam’s determination.

Liam was as reluctant as a brick wall, breathing heavily. Apparently, he had forgotten his previous poise. “If I can recall, Kurt, Max has two fathers.”

“ _Had!_ ” Kurt shouted, just hearing his ex-husband keep saying Max’s name had him bubbling with fury. He stood there, face-to-face with Liam, whose face was blotching with rage. He appeared close to smoke steaming out of his ears. “ _I_ got custody over him, Liam! Not you! You’re not supposed to be in his life!”

“And why not?!”

“Because you were a drunk who left everything onto _my_ shoulders!”

“I’ve changed--!”

“Go!”

“And what? Leave you to fend on your own?” Liam challenged, his voice probably loud enough to be heard by the staff. “I know you need me--”

“No. I don’t.” Kurt held his chin up higher. “You decided that for me five years ago. Besides, I am seeing someone else.”

Liam’s eyebrows shot up his forehead. “Who?”

“None of your goddamn business.” Kurt was going to add another remark, but suddenly the door flew open, and there was Santana.

“Hey, hi...sorry to interrupt your...reunion, or whatever,” she said, eyeing them both. “But, employees only.” She gave Liam her best bitch glare she could muster. With a sneer, Liam shoved past her, storming out of sight.

Kurt finally deflated, feeling like he had just went into a full out war without any armor or battle plans. His head hurt and a billion thoughts were going off in his head. “Thanks,” he told Santana, rubbing his eyes.

“Geesh, what a douchebag,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “How could you marry someone like that, Hummel?”

“Love blinds you, I guess.”

She huffed, shaking her head at him. “Blaine took Max out, by the way.”

“Thank god.” The knots in his stomach lessened before he realized something, then looked at her curiously. “Wait, how did you know…?”

“Oh, please. It wasn’t hard to eavesdrop when you and Rachel had that drunken sobbing fest over at our apartment. You spilled your whole tragic backstory.” She tilted her head, her smile gentle. “Hey, I understand what your ex-douche has done. Believe me, I got your back. No one gets to torment you but me.”

He actually felt better from that, and smiled graciously in return. “Thank you, Santana.”

Naturally, her stance returned her usual snark, and she rolled her eyes before jutting a thumb at the exit. “Enough with the cheesy friendship moment. Go get your man, Hummel. I’m pretty sure he and Max went to that cupcake shop across the street...so if your kid is in a sugar-high, it ain’t my fault.”

Since Kurt still had plenty of time left on his lunch break, the trip to the cupcake shop wasn’t too difficult to manage. He arrived in the cute little store, with its pastel theme and glass cases of all their decorated desserts. Blaine and Max were sitting at one of the small, circle tables, Max’s backpack slung around his chair. Blaine’s chocolate cupcake was only half eaten while Max had blue frosting smeared over his mouth.

“Daddy!” Max called when he saw Kurt approach, waving a hand in the air. “Blaine got me a cupcake!”

“How very nice of him.” Kurt squatted down beside his son, wrapping an arm around him and kissing his temple. It was like all that anger and tension from the argument before had vanished when he knew Max was safe in his arms again.

Kurt then grabbed some napkins, wiping Max’s face off as best as he could before he caught the concerned look on his boyfriend’s face. Giving him a half-hearted smile, Kurt hoped he would send the message that everything was alright...at least for now.

“Do you want a cupcake, Daddy?” Max asked, looking down at his own in his hands. It must have been one that was birthday cake flavored, little spots of color hidden in the vanilla. But now, it was mostly a crumbling mess. “There was some with purple frosting or with froggies on top.”

“No, Maxie, I’m fine,” Kurt said, pushing some of Max’s hair off of his forehead. A habit of affection.

“Blaine got chocolate!” Max said, pointing at Blaine’s cupcake.

“Do you want us to still get lunch, sweetheart?” Blaine asked quietly to Kurt.

Sighing, Kurt stood and pulled up a third chair. “I’m not really all that hungry,” he replied, feeling a hollow ache form in his chest. Liam may have marched off back there, but his fight wasn’t over. What else could he possibly do to try and repair the damage he had done?

Giving him a gentle smile, Blaine pushed the rest of the chocolate cupcake towards him. Kurt pursed his lips, tempted to act like how Max does when Kurt tries to make him eat his vegetables, yet eventually gave in. He leaned on his elbows and picked out chunks of the cupcake to eat.

Later, he’ll be thankful that his boyfriend was watching out for him in even the smallest ways.

When the three made it back to the Spotlight Diner after Kurt’s break was done, Blaine stopped outside the doorway, catching Kurt’s hand to do the same.

“Is there _anything_ I can do?” Blaine asked, his hazel eyes doing that thing where they shined with sincerity.

Kurt shook his head, looking down at their linked hands. “I’ll just have to endure, I guess. I mean, I can request for him to be banned from coming into the diner...but I don’t know what else.”

Max had gone inside, probably to return to his coloring he was doing before, and while Kurt was about to go and see if he was alright, Blaine exhaled and squeezed his hand tighter.

“I just...I wish I was able to do something to make you happy again,” he said. “When we went to Ohio, everything was so wonderful and now we’re back here and--”

“Blaine,” Kurt told him. “You _do_ make me happy.” Even if right now Kurt’s life was shitty, at least Blaine was this beacon of sunlight throughout his days.

Right before his eyes, Kurt saw an idea pop into Blaine’s mind. His eyes widened and a corner of his mouth lifted up. “Hey...may I ask when you’re free again?”

“Free?” Kurt asked. “For what?”

“Kurt Hummel,” Blaine said, stepping nearer to him, eyes hooded. “I would like to formally invite you over to my place for a romantic, peaceful evening. Just the two of us.”

* * *

The hotel he was staying in was small, but made do. A single bed, TV with limited channels, diamond-patterned carpet, and a window view of the neon sign of a seafood restaurant next door. It was no _Anderson Suites_ room, but it had free WiFi.

Which really, is all Liam needed.

Kurt? _Seeing_ someone? The idea sent him in an outrage. Whoever this man is was now a roadblock in Liam’s plans. He had probably swept Kurt off his feet, probably showered him with love and adoration.

That was Liam’s job. _He_ had married Kurt at one point, after all.

If Kurt was seeing someone, that meant...that this man had also seen Max.

His fingers tapped away harder at his laptop, almost smashing the keys at that thought. Maybe it was pushing the limits by stalking Kurt’s social media, but Liam had to know. He was going to get the answer of Kurt’s new love interest, no matter what it took.

Apparently, being a father meant less activity on Facebook and Twitter, for there was no indication on any special someone’s hopping into Kurt’s life. Not even an ‘In a Relationship’ status.

Perhaps Kurt had been lying. Perhaps he was trying to make Liam jealous…

Deciding to take a different route, Liam switched over to Kurt’s friends’ pages. Rachel Berry attended NYADA with them, and she tweeted like a madman. It took several minutes of scrolling to actually get a hint at something other than what food she was craving or her favorite song at the time.

_@Rachel_Berry01 OMG!! A bff of mine met Blaine Anderson today!! Talk about a starstruck moment! #jealousy_

Blaine Anderson? Wasn’t he part of that rich Anderson hotel family? Liam quickly Googled his name out of pure curiosity.

The first search that came up had to do with a charity gala Robert Anderson hosted in the city. Blaine’s name was in the article, so Liam clicked the link.

He skimmed the paragraphs, his full attention going to the slideshow of pictures at the end. There were some of elegantly dressed guests with names Liam didn’t recognize in the captions, some of Robert Anderson talking into a microphone, and finally one of Blaine.

The Anderson son was sitting at a table, looking oddly familiar and obviously watching his father’s speech, completely unaware of the photographer. He wasn’t alone, however.

Liam’s jaw tightened, his blood boiling dangerously.

Sitting next to him, dressed up in a tuxedo and completely oblivious, was Kurt.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! First off, I am sorry that I've been slacking on the updates lately. Life's been busy and I've barely had time to do anything related to this story. Nevertheless, I present to you an extra special chapter, the longest one yet I believe? Hopefully it will suffice until I get my writing-mode kicked back into gear. Again, thank you for being patient! You guys are amazing :)  
> (Also, 200 kudos?? Oh, my gosh y'all are too sweet)

It was actually quite nerve-racking, for some strange reason.

The whole situation felt so serious. Kurt was invited to Blaine’s apartment, and by the way the evening was phrased, it hinted at Kurt staying the night.

The idea made Kurt’s face grow hot.

He was busying himself by zipping Max’s hoodie. His son had his backpack slung over his shoulders, filled with extra clothes, toothbrush, and his stuffed Dalmatian Max had oddly named Kenny.

Santana had agreed to look after him for the night, since Rachel had a callback for _Funny Girl_ and was therefore unavailable. “Listen, while I’m more than happy on the potential of you getting laid, I do have some conditions,” she had told him when he had come up to her at work. “Firstly, he can come to my apartment because we have Netflix and you don’t. And second, I’m probably going to feed him pizza and soda. ‘Cause I can’t cook for shit.”

Which is why they were waiting outside of Kurt’s building for Santana to arrive, and in the meantime Max had looked quite distressed.

“What is it, honey?” Kurt asked, sitting back and looking his son in the eye.

Max wasn’t looking at his father’s face, rather at his shoes. He twisted his mouth, shrugging his shoulders. “Are you...are you always gonna sleep at Blaine’s house?”

“What? No, of course not,” Kurt said. “It’s...it’s like a sleepover. We’re just having a sleepover.”

“But,” Max raised his head, “Blaine’s your boyfriend. And Lindsay at school said her mommy is living with her boyfriend ‘cause Lindsay lives with her daddy and her mommy lives in Michigan.”

“Oh, Maxie…” Kurt put his hands on Max’s arms, smiling at him gently. “Everyone’s family is different. I’m going to be seeing you tomorrow and I promise we’ll both be sleeping in our own beds.” He pushed away some of Max’s brown hair to try and sooth him. “Besides, you’ve slept over at Santana and Rachel’s apartment before.”

“Why can’t I go to Blaine’s house, too?” Max asked.

Kurt hesitated. “Um...well, because we’ll probably do boring stuff. Like talk all night. It won’t be any fun. Anyway, Santana said she’s going to have pizza, and you don’t want to miss that, do you?”

Instantly, Max’s face lit up. “Is it pepperoni?”

“I don’t know, you’ll have to find out!”

Soon enough, Santana’s cab pulled up to the curb. She exited the car, and while Kurt knew she was trying to maintain a impassive attitude, he saw her smile with delight at Max’s excitedness. Not even she was immune to his personality.

Kurt informed her about bedtime and the routine and how he needs to brush his teeth. She listened, but waved him off when he started rambling, telling him that she could handle a five-year-old for one night.

Max hooked his arms around Kurt’s neck when they had their goodbye hug, and was clutching so tightly that Kurt had to physically pry his son away, planting a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” he told him, noticing Max’s pout. “I promise.”

Max nodded, allowing Santana to take his hand and lead him to the cab. He turned back to Kurt, waving at him. “Bye-bye, I love you!”

Kurt smiled and waved back. “I love you, too.”

There’s was only a few minutes Kurt had all to himself after the two had left. His arms were hugging himself and he had unintentionally began pacing on the sidewalk, beginning to do his panic-worry mode, where he was debating whether this was a good idea, if this was too big of a step in his and Blaine’s relationship, if Max would be okay, if he should bail before screwing everything up…

However, Harold had pulled up in the fancy, sleek black car, stepping out to properly greet Kurt with his snow white hair and rosy-cheek smile. “Pleasure to see you again, Mr. Hummel.”

Kurt relaxed his shoulders. “Hi, Harold.”

Harold had held the door open for him, and Kurt stepped inside.

If anything, the ride there was more unnerving. For the first time, Kurt wished the car wasn’t so quiet, so he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts. Harold was focused on driving, leaving Kurt to do nothing but stare out the window and go over the same worries again and again…

He didn’t even know where exactly Blaine lived, or if he was too under dressed. It was a simple, purple maroon sweater that had a collar peeking out underneath, his denim skinny jeans a dark blue. He was going for a casual date attire, but what if Blaine lived in a high class home? What if really he was meant to wear a tie?

They drove farther into the heart of Manhattan, passing Central Park. The buildings here were towering, whether they be hotels or historical attractions. The late afternoon still had plenty of traffic and pedestrians, clogging the streets and sidewalks. However, to where Harold pulled up to, the people were sparse.

Kurt couldn’t even see the entire building from his window. It was one of those hotels only the richest of the rich could afford, with its classical architecture and trimmed bushes on either side of the deep green carpeted stairs. A bellhop in a uniform walked up and opened Kurt’s door for him, tipping his cap.

Okay, Kurt was sure he was dreaming.

He stepped out, head craning up to soak in the massiveness of the structure, when another voice called out his name. “Kurt Hummel?”

A pretty, young Asian woman was walking down the stairs, her dark flowing hair highlighted brown bouncing with every step. She was wearing a black pencil skirt and cute sea green top. Her smile was friendly when she approached Kurt, and she held out a hand for him to shake. “I’m Tina Cohen-Chang, and believe me, I’ve heard so much about you.”

After shaking her hand politely, he slowly nodded. “Oh, Tina! You’re Blaine’s--”

“Assistant? You betcha! And now my job is to assist and get you inside.” She smiled wider, gesturing to follow her.

The lobby was nothing less than lavish, with its velvet rugs, marble floors, and...holy shit, a crystal chandelier? Kurt was tempted to pinch himself or ask if he was really at the right place when him and Tina walked inside an elevator.

She pressed a button marked ‘PH’ and folded her hands in front of her as the doors closed. “So,” Tina said to Kurt, her smile never leaving her face. “What do you think so far?”

“It’s…” Kurt motioned around them, “ _really_ fancy.”

Laughing, she replied, “Oh, you haven’t seen nothing yet.”

Kurt guessed they were at the top floor when the doors finally opened, and Tina strode over to a door opposite of the small hallway. She took out a key, unlocking it before turning to Kurt. “Have fuuuun,” she sang, pushing it open for him.

While with the first footstep inside had Kurt’s breath taken away, he was greeted with a rather furry creature.

“Oh!” He widened his eyes at the barking dog hopping on its white paws, tongue lolling out and tail wagging rapidly. It was a border collie, with black and white fur long and groomed. Carefully, he reached out and patting its head, petting between the ears. The dog licked its tongue back inside their mouth, dropping to sit and keep wagging its long tail.

Kurt kept scratching at the ears, seeing how the dog was happily tilting its head towards his hand, and leaned down to look at the collar. There was a silver, bone-shaped tag reading, ‘Lacy.’

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lacy,” Kurt said with a smile.

Lacy yipped in reply.

“Kurt?” called a familiar voice from another room.

After swiping his hands on his pants, Kurt stood and walked that direction, Lacy right at his heels. He tried not to be overwhelmed by the apartment--no, penthouse. It was a difficult challenge to maintain.

For starters, the entryway was probably the most mundane part of the entire home. The flooring was a lightly colored hardwood, connecting to other rooms. The walls were a simple white, making the decorations like paintings stand out. But with the area Kurt entered in next, he had to stop in his tracks.

It was _huge_. Spacious and elegant, one gigantic room including the kitchen, living room, and dining set in between. Two of the walls opposite to Kurt were nothing other than windows, large squares extending from floor to ceiling, viewing the top of Central Park’s green trees and the Manhattan skyline.

“Hi!” said Blaine from the kitchen, where he was twisting some dials on the oven. Even the kitchen was impressive, with its dark mahogany cupboards and shiny counter tops, not to mention all the appliances were modern and spotless. Well, except for the center island, which had bowls, spoons, opened boxes, and spilled ingredients scattered all around it.

Kurt gave his boyfriend a curious look. “What’s going on?”

“Well,” Blaine said, going towards him and glancing around at his mess. He was dressed in black pants and a yellow button-up, the top two undone. “I was trying to make dinner.” His smile was glowing when he reached Kurt, and quickly gave him a hello kiss.

Kurt separated with his eyebrows raised. “Dinner?”

“Yeah, how do you feel about spaghetti and meatballs?” he asked. “Oh, and garlic bread!” He jutted a thumb at the oven. “That’s baking right now.”

“You...are making dinner?”

“Yes,” Blaine said, giving Kurt a funny look. “You’re surprised?”

“No, I…” Kurt hesitated, feeling flattered. “No one’s ever cooked me dinner before.”

Blaine grinned. “Well, then it’s an honor.”

He offered to show Kurt around until supper was ready, and Kurt said sure, although he wondered how on earth there could be _more_ to see.

As it turned out, Blaine’s penthouse included two bathrooms that had both tubs and glass door showers, three guest bedrooms that looked like they were barely being used, and not to mention Blaine’s own bedroom, with windows much like his living room’s. Kurt didn’t even know what to say--although he was certain this place could hold ten of his own apartment.

“Yep, I’ve got the whole floor,” Blaine told him, their hands linked as they finished the tour back at the living room. “You wanna see the balcony?”

“Wait,” Kurt dropped their hands, walking past the plush sofas, the stainless steel coffee table, the modern fireplace and came to the back corner, where the windows met and a grand piano sat. It was black and glossy, just waiting to be played. “Do you play?”

“Of course,” Blaine said, coming up beside him as Kurt took a seat at the bench. “Do you?”

Kurt nodded, his fingers hovering over the keys. It had been ages, but he hadn’t completely forgotten everything.

Tentatively, he began playing a [melody](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6ip3X-xguQ) his mother had always loved.

The music seemed to flow about the penthouse, taking up space in its vast area. Kurt may have missed a few notes, or hesitated now and then, but the song was comforting to the overwhelmed state he was in before.

As he reached the end, he felt hands placed on his shoulders, and knew Blaine was standing right behind him. “It’s beautiful, Kurt,” he said softly. The pads of his fingers massaged down on Kurt’s shoulders, and Kurt stuttered with playing for a moment. He debated whether stopping altogether until he felt a pair of lips brushing on the back of his neck.

Kurt exhaled into a smile, aware that he was most likely blushing at what Blaine was doing. His boyfriend’s kisses were tender, lightly grazing over a spot on his skin before moving to a next one, sending shivers all over Kurt’s body. The soft mouth pressed kisses trailing down from under his ear and whatever space was available above his collar.

Letting his fingers rest on top of the piano keys, Kurt let out a small laugh and said a little breathless, “Maybe we should eat first?”

“Shit, right!” And with reluctance, Blaine hurried back to make sure the garlic bread wasn’t burnt.

Blaine admitted during their meal that this was actually the first dinner he had made all by himself. Kurt assured him it was perfect--and it truly was. The dining table was long and could seat about a dozen, but the two sat together at one end. There were tall, flickering candles and cloth napkins on their laps. Background music played in the kitchen from an iPod and speakers. The sun had since sunk over the horizon, giving the room an orange glow to it.

“So, how’s Max this evening?” Blaine asked, taking a sip of his red wine.

“He’s probably having the time of his life,” Kurt sighed, twirling his spaghetti on his fork. “I wouldn’t doubt if Santana gave him a pizza and let him watch whatever movie he wanted.”

Blaine laughed. “Oh, man. You let Santana look after him?”

“Well, she’s not that bad,” Kurt teased. “Besides, Rachel has her callback tonight. For the lead in _Funny Girl_.”

“No way.” Blaine looked impressed. “Broadway’s _Funny Girl_?”

“Mhmm.” Kurt let his eyes stay fixed on his noodles, pushing them around to get on his fork.

Blaine noticed his shift in behavior right away, and asked, “Is that bad?”

“No! No, it’s amazing. I’m so happy for her…” Kurt trailed off, groaning because usually he wouldn’t admit this last part out loud. “I’m just...a tad jealous, I suppose. I mean, it was my dream way back when to perform on Broadway, that’s why I came to New York and NYADA in the first place, but…”

“But?”

Kurt looked at him. “Blaine, I can’t just...run off and perform now! I have my job and Max.”

Blaine gave him a sad smile. “Kurt, you’re incredibly talented. You should be on stage no matter what your situation. You deserve it.”

For some reason, Blaine’s words inspired him. Kurt was a dreamer, that hadn’t died, however they have seemed to be halted ever since those responsibilities popped in his life. Choosing not to ponder on it for too long, Kurt shook his head and grabbed his wine glass, saying before taking a sip, “Did you know Max’s birthday is in two weeks?”

Although it was obvious Blaine knew he was changing topic on purpose, Blaine was intrigued, asking what Max wanted for presents.

He was cut short by his cell phone vibrating against the table top.

The two men’s attention turned to it, and shining bright and clear against the screen were the words: _Cooper is calling_.

Blaine scowled, reaching to hang up when Kurt said, “I don’t mind if you have to take it.”

“No, trust me, he’s the last person in the world I want to talk to.”

Kurt tilted his head. “Is it still about the family business deal?”

Blaine nodded, his phone completely turned off and shoved inside his pocket. “Yeah, he’s sort of determined.”

“Well--” Kurt stopped himself.

“What is it?”

“I was just...going to ask…” Kurt said slowly, setting his glass back on the table. “Why not? Is it just because you don’t like the company?”

“No, the company is great. I’m happy for it and it’s success, but,” Blaine sighed. “It’s just...it’s not for me.”

“How do you know?”

“I--I--” Blaine pressed his lips together to halt his stuttering, then raised an eyebrow at Kurt. “I thought we agreed this would be a peaceful evening?”

Kurt laughed. “What, talking business isn’t peaceful?”

“Not when there’s a thousand better things we could be doing,” Blaine told him, his voice gone a notch lower and his elbows leaning forward.

The room’s temperature suddenly went up about fifty degrees, so naturally Kurt gathered his plates and declared himself full before standing and heading to the kitchen.

He didn’t even get enough time to worry about his embarrassing reaction to apparent wooing as he set his plates in the sink when Blaine came beside him, doing the same. They were quiet and close enough to the iPod, able to hear the newest song playing through the speakers.

Kurt perked up, automatically saying, “Oh, I love this song.”

“Really?” Blaine asked, and Kurt just turned around to face his boyfriend as a hand slipped around his waist and the other slid into his right hand. The voice of Adele serenaded the room as Blaine pulled Kurt chest-to-chest, swaying them in a gentle slow dance.

A thousand emotions were swarming around Kurt’s veins, ones that made his cheeks go pink and his mouth part in surprise. Blaine was like some sort of heartthrob out of a romantic movie, doing things Kurt only dreamed would happen to him.

He had to giggle, his whole face bursting with joy. “Not good with romance, huh?”

Blaine shrugged, grin lifting higher at one corner. “ _I dare you to let me be your...your one and only…_ ”

“Oh, my god.” Someone needed to pinch him because Kurt just _had_ to be dreaming. Between a candlelight dinner and now Blaine was _singing_ to him while they were slow dancing in his kitchen.

And he just couldn’t stop smiling.

“ _Promise I’m worthy…_ ” Blaine continued, his eyes hooded as his grin widened. “ _To hold in your arms…_ ”

Their noses brushed together and Kurt wanted to close his eyes, bask in the bliss of it all. How could it be possible that he was dating a real life prince charming?

The sunset had officially turned into the deep blue of night, and the window lights of skyscraper windows appeared with it. Kurt and Blaine were too entranced in their own world to even notice, but when the song finished they blinked together, realizing they were still at Blaine’s penthouse and not in some sort of heavenly bubble.

Blaine huffed out a laugh, letting his hand around Kurt’s waist fall. “Shall we finish our wine in the living room?”

Kurt smiled and nodded.

Lacy had declared ownership on the sofa facing the fireplace, her long tail thumping faster when the two appeared. Blaine petted the top of her head when they passed, deciding to sit on the second couch. Kurt sat beside him, angling his body to face Blaine and sipping his wine.

They slipped into easy conversation, Blaine telling the story on how he came to know Lacy (a present for his twenty-fifth birthday from Sam, who declared his place was too large for just one person) and Kurt told Blaine what Max was wishing for his birthday (anything to do with Captain America). They sky outside grew darker, warm lighting from lamps now lit the living room.

Again, Kurt and Blaine weren’t really paying attention. They were laughing and setting their glasses aside on the coffee table, completely wrapped in happiness.

Then, Blaine’s eyes flitted to Kurt’s mouth, and Kurt’s hand crept to Blaine’s neck, and soon the space between them was closed.

Kurt had kissed Blaine a number of times before, and dear god he wanted to kiss him countless times more, but he knew he’d never get tired of the pure rush he gets when Blaine’s mouth is pressed against his. There were no other worries or troubles in the universe when his boyfriend’s hands flattened around his waist and his tongue was slipping into his mouth.

He was climbing onto Blaine’s lap, knees on either side of Blaine’s legs as he kissed him deeper, tilting his head as his fingers scratched at the back of his dark hair. If anything, he was hungry, craving to continue the sensation on Blaine could bring upon him--the electric heat in his chest and thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears.

Blaine’s hands were on another mission. One had unclasped Kurt’s sweater, running up his chest and resting to cup his jaw. The other had remained on his hipbone, but now it was smoothing down Kurt’s denim-covered thigh, almost touching his knee before sliding right back up.

He could feel Blaine grinning when Kurt groaned against his lips.

The hand continued the same motion over and over, the fingertips almost touching the zipper of Kurt’s jeans before running down his leg again. Kurt could barely focus on kissing anymore. Blaine was being a _tease_ , for christ’s sake. He felt too warm in his clothing and his jeans were definitely becoming too tight. His breathing was becoming unsteady simply from how _amazing_ everything felt.

He was starting to clutch at the front of Blaine’s shirt, blindly fumbling to the buttons when Blaine’s lips broke apart from his. Kurt fluttered his eyes open just as Blaine breathed out, “Bedroom?”

Even though his mind had short-circuited, Kurt felt himself nod right before he went and clashed their mouths together again.

* * *

Blaine’s master bedroom only had the dim glow from the city lighting its interior. It had soft white carpet under their feet as they shuffled out of their shoes, a desk and a few decorative chairs, a large mirror above his dresser, and a personal bathroom near the closet. Although, the area Blaine was leading Kurt to the best he could while they kept chasing each other’s lips was in the center, pushed back against the wall.

He backed Kurt up against the edge, wrapping an arm around his waist as he leaned him backwards, letting them fall onto his bed. King-sized, with a deep blue comforter and more pillows than an average person needed.

“Blaine--” Kurt started to say, but Blaine was ravenous, desperate for Kurt in every way. He had a hand cradling Kurt’s jaw as his mouth skimmed to his neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the pale skin. His boyfriend groaned, fingers tugging at Blaine’s already mussed hair.

Truthfully, Blaine would have been perfectly happy if the night only included kissing. Kurt’s lips were addicting, always drawing him in even if they were breathless. And now they were here, and Kurt was underneath him, biting back whimpers when Blaine went and sucked at a certain spot.

“Blaine,” Kurt tried again, his voice already uneven. “Blaine, h-hold on. Wait a second.”

Blaine did pull away then, holding himself up to look down at his boyfriend. His chest was heaving and face mostly likely flushed. “What is it?”

Hands sliding from Blaine’s hair and down to his shoulders, Kurt chewed his lip and looked somewhat embarrassed. “I...I just wanted to...t-to warn you.”

“Warn me?”

“That,” even in the limited lighting, he could see Kurt’s face reddening, “I haven’t done this in a while, and I might be a little, you know, rusty or awkward--”

“Oh, darling,” Blaine gave him a gentle smile, kissing those worry lines away. “No, no... you’ll be perfect.”

“Blaine.” Kurt locked their eyes, serious and apprehensive.

“I’m being honest,” Blaine replied, kissing the corner of his mouth before returning his attention to the side of Kurt’s neck again. “I love you, and you’re perfect.”

Kurt made a disbelieving snort, but sighed when Blaine’s lips attached to the patch of skin right under his ear.

They gradually became frenzied again, with Blaine leaving a bruise as Kurt simultaneously attempted to undo the buttons on his shirt. When things were taking too long, Blaine detached to sit up and unbutton them himself, Kurt taking this time to shuck off his own sweater.

Blaine shook his head as he tossed it to the floor before turning back to his boyfriend. When he did, his chest stuttered. Kurt was pale and smooth, broad shoulders sprinkled with faint freckles and toned muscles all over. He was discarding his own shirt aside before getting ready to unzip his jeans.

“Allow me,” Blaine managed to say when his brain functioned again. He sat on his knees, popping open the button and pulling the zipper down. Hearing Kurt’s breath hitch when Blaine grazed over the bulge in his underwear, Blaine pushed down the jeans far enough so he could cup over Kurt’s front, rolling the heel of his palm down.

“Oh, _god_.” Kurt’s mouth fell open as a hand flew to clutch Blaine’s shoulder. His back arched and he bit harshly down on his lip, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Okay?” Blaine asked, leaning in to whisper lowly in his ear.

Kurt nodded quickly, hurrying out of his jeans as fast as possible.

As Blaine stripped out of his own pants, Kurt gulped in some air, pushing hair away from his face. They had only barely begun and they were already so wrecked. Marks on neck and strands of hair sticking out of place. Blaine didn’t even know what he looked like, and he never got the chance to check for once they were both only in their underwear, he was crawling to Kurt and connecting their lips again, hungry and hard.

“Do you,” Kurt murmured against his lips, letting his head sink back against the pillows, “have...supplies?”

“Mhmm.” Blaine kissed him once more before pulling away, reaching towards his nightstand and opening the drawer, bringing out the proper items. He sat the condoms to the side of the comforter and kept the lube in his hands, then he looked down at Kurt.

His boyfriend was watching him, panting with pupils blown wide. His legs were bent and on either side of Blaine, his feet flat against the bed. The city light from the huge windows illuminated him, making his skin almost a dim blue.

Blaine’s throat bobbed as he smiled, his thumb pad brushing Kurt’s cheekbone. “You’re so beautiful.”

Kurt smiled, one that was genuine and free of nerves. “You are, too.” His fingers floated up and touched Blaine’s jaw, skimming down his skin, over his Adam’s apple and to his collarbone.

Goosebumps appeared on Blaine’s skin. He was vibrating with excitement and arousal and pure love for this man, that the only logical thing to do was kiss him before they furthered on.

He loved that they were going slow, taking their time and sharing moments of soft touches and sweet kisses. It was so unlike any other occasions he’d sleep with someone, yet now Blaine adored every second of it. He almost never wanted it to end.

They parted, only because Kurt was shuffling out of his underwear and Blaine hastily did the same. Once all their clothing was in piles on the carpet, Blaine gazed down at Kurt again, drinking him in.

 _Beautiful_ couldn’t cover what Kurt was. _Magnificent_ and _breathtaking_ came close.

Kurt yanked Blaine into another kiss just as he was beginning to ogle his boyfriend’s impressive and flushed cock. Taken aback but certainly not complaining, Blaine closed his eyes and figured he’d have plenty of chances to worship it later.

Their tongues slid together as moans muffled against each other’s mouths. The lube was fumbling in Blaine’s hand, and the room became silent when he managed to uncap it.

They separated, Blaine getting a nod from Kurt before he sat back, nudging his legs apart. Cold lube coated his fingers, and he watched Kurt’s face carefully as he slipped a hand between him.

Kurt groaned when Blaine started to stretch him, and just like the other times he pressed his lips together, stifling his sounds. Confused, Blaine asked, “Why are you being quiet?”

Kurt shook his head. “I…” he stopped himself.

Blaine smiled, leaning forward to kiss him softly. “Be loud for me, sweetheart,” he whispered against his lips.

Two fingers slipped inside Kurt, stroking against the tight walls and releasing breathy moans from Kurt’s throat, ones that were gut-deep and lifted his back off the bed. It drove Blaine crazy.

After Kurt was taking three fingers easily, he grasped for Blaine’s arm, digging his fingernails in the skin. “Blaine...I’m...please.”

No one needed to tell Blaine twice. He wiped his fingers after pulling them out of Kurt, stumbling with tearing open a condom while he shifted himself. He could feel Kurt watching him as he sat back against the headboard.

Blaine met his eyes. “Is this okay?”

Kurt quirked a smile, and sat up himself.

The condom was rolled on and more lube was applied. Blaine patiently waited as Kurt maneuvered himself over Blaine’s lap, one hand balancing on Blaine’s shoulder while the other was busy lining himself up.

Blaine was actually feeling his heart hammering against his rib cage, the anticipation almost overwhelming. It was odd, he usually never felt this way before sex. It was normally too much hazy arousal and sweaty skin to worry about emotions.

Now, he swallowed, placing a hand on Kurt’s neck to get his attention. “I love you, Kurt,” he said.

Kurt hummed, dimples showing before he pecked a kiss at his lips. Then, Kurt slowly began to sink down.

Blaine gasped, unsure what to do with any of his limbs for _tight_ and _hot_ and _so fucking incredible_ all crashed upon him, enveloping him in sheer sensation. His eyes were tempted to squeeze shut, his mouth remained slack. Kurt’s eyebrows were furrowed in concentration and pleasure, his hand relaxing from Blaine’s shoulder when he was fully seated.

They both exhaled, basking in the deep intimacy. Blaine saw Kurt’s body loosen from his tense stance of before, and he himself decided to graze his palms up Kurt’s thighs, letting them rest at his hips again.

Except, when he applied a little pressure there, Kurt’s eyes flew wide and he squeaked.

Bewildered, Blaine gave him a puzzling look. “Kurt--?”

Kurt’s lips were pressed together, as if fighting back a smile. Both his hands wrapped around Blaine’s wrists, like a warning. “Blaine, I swear to god.”

It dawned upon him, and Blaine’s jaw dropped. He grinned wickedly, his eyes wide with wonder. “Kurt Hummel, are you...?”

“Blaine, don’t you dare--” Kurt was cut off by his own squeal, squirming when Blaine tickled his sides. His face scrunched up and his head was thrown back, trying to shove away Blaine’s hands while giggling at the same time.

“Blaine-- _Blaine!_ Oh, my god, stop, stop!” Kurt laughed, finally keeping the fingers away from his body for a few seconds. “I thought we were in the middle of something?” he said breathlessly, raising an eyebrow.

Oh, yeah. He was literally buried inside Kurt right now. Blaine composed himself, although keeping that little fact tucked away for later. Kurt’s laughter was music to his ears, after all.

The two cleared their throats, returning to their previous position (with Blaine’s hands resting on the round flesh of Kurt’s ass, a more than satisfying replacement). Kurt inhaled deeply, his hands gripping Blaine’s shoulders as he began lifting himself up and then dropping back down.

They found a rhythm, slow at first as the two found themselves moaning, clutching at each other as Blaine’s thrusts met Kurt’s hips. He was murmuring pet names and praises and _holy fuck_ over and over, his hand tentatively wandering to Kurt’s waist again, only to help him with the pace.

Soon, Blaine shifted, bringing his knees up and trying to get a different angle, one that if correct, should make--

“ _BLAINE!_ ”

Blaine grinned. His boyfriend had slumped forward, forehead pressed against Blaine’s neck. Delighted on his discovery, Blaine continued thrusting upwards, hitting Kurt’s prostate again and again.

They were moving faster, breathing heavy and hearing their moans echo around the bedroom. Legs were shaking and sweat appeared at their temples. Blaine blindly crept his hand between their bodies, wrapping his fist around Kurt’s long and leaking cock, dragging his hand up, swiping the pre-come. Kurt cried out, his fingernails scratching Blaine’s skin.

He was close, the heat squirming in his belly dangerously. Blaine bit down hard on his lip, ordering himself not to, that Kurt needed to come first, that he needed to see his face when he did.

His boyfriend gasped sharply when Blaine hit that spot again. His head was away from Blaine’s neck, and he was babbling for words, perhaps to tell Blaine to kiss him or that he was almost to the edge when his body froze, and he clenched around Blaine as his ears turned cherry red.

Kurt shouted Blaine’s name as he came, shuddering as white stripes coated their abdomens and Blaine’s fingers. That was all it took for Blaine to let go as well, falling against Kurt and burying his face in the crook of his neck, releasing deep and so hard he almost saw stars.

They were both heaving through the aftershocks, the room coming to a quiet around them. Blaine felt the come cool on his skin and start to feel sticky. But he didn’t care.

He lifted his head to see Kurt’s face. Kurt was pink and had strands of damp hair falling over his forehead. More importantly, he was trembling, and his bright blue eyes were misting.

“Kurt? Oh, my god, are you--?” Blaine started to ask, aiming for gentle comfort and not total panic.

“I’m fine.” Kurt sniffed, wiping away a stray tear with the back of his wrist. Then he smiled at Blaine, a little wobbly but not broken. “Really, I am. That was...that was just...really intense and--” His voice cracked.

“Hey, shh.” Blaine rubbed his hands across Kurt’s back, kissing his cheek and then his lips. “It’s okay.”

Kurt let out a weak laugh. “I’m so lame.”

“No, you’re amazing. And I love you.”

Kurt climbed off of him, wincing slightly from oversensitiveness when Blaine’s cock was fully out. Blaine took off the condom and tied it up, tossing it in the trashbin while Kurt plucked some tissues from the other nightstand.

They laid side by side as they cleaned themselves off, catching their breaths, exchanging happy smiles.

It was after the tissues were disposed as well when Blaine snuggled to Kurt’s side, propped up on his elbow as he gazed down at him. Kurt was flat on his back, naked and rosy-cheeked and looking at Blaine like he was seeing the sun for the first time.

“Stay with me?” Blaine whispered, fingertips tracing Kurt’s face.

Kurt broke out in a smile. “Always.”


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt was woken up by bright sunlight.

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, shielding his face in the rising and falling chest. Perhaps sleep would wash over him quickly, so he could bask longer in the warmth of these thick, soft covers, fluffy pillows, and a mattress so comfortable Kurt was almost convinced he was laying on a cloud.

Though, his brain slowly came awake, cataloging where exactly he was.

Kurt blinked open his eyes and was met with olive-toned skin. He had fallen asleep on his side, and arms were wrapped around his torso--a pleasant weight. Carefully, Kurt tilted his head up, taking in the entire picture.

Blaine was facing him, sound asleep with his mouth parted. Had they drifted off in tangled in each other like an embrace? Their legs were interlaced, Kurt’s fingers were skimming Blaine’s back, and they had even shared a pillow all through the night.

Smiling a little, Kurt sighed. Blaine wasn’t facing his enormous windows, the blinding morning sun was warming his skin instead of violating his eyes. He looked peaceful, his long eyelashes fanning his cheeks and gentle puffs of air escaping his mouth. His dark hair was coming out of its gel, sticking in curls where Kurt had tugged at it.

Kurt bit his lip to keep from smiling more. God, last night was _perfect_. Absolutely perfect, and now he had woken up next to the most beautiful man in the world.

It was funny, actually. Whenever Kurt slept in Blaine’s arms, it was always the most relaxing night he’s ever had.

Blaine inhaled sharply, closing his mouth and moving his arm around Kurt slightly. Gradually, he opened his golden eyes, coming to realize Kurt was watching him, and lifted a corner of his mouth. “Hi, gorgeous” he said, voice groggy.

“Hello there,” Kurt replied, unable to stop smiling.

Blaine ran a hand across his own face, wiping the sleep away before he grinned at Kurt. Then, he rolled him over on his back so Blaine could hover over him. “What’s your opinion on morning breath?”

Kurt shrugged. “Mine’s probably gross.”

Shaking his head, Blaine smirked before slowly leaning in, brushing their lips in a kiss that was nothing less than tender. Lazy and gentle, with no other goals other than to say _good morning_.

There was only a hint of bitter taste, but Kurt didn’t mind. It felt so domestic and blissful, a moment meant only for him and Blaine. While the city bustled below them at this early hour, there they were. The comforter twisted around their bare bodies and their kiss turning into pressed smiles.

Kurt was the first to pull back, his hand continuing to stroke the back of Blaine’s neck. He hummed, chest fluttering. Not from nerves or anything of that nature, not while Blaine was staring down at him with still drowsy eyes and a sleepy grin.

“Hey, Blaine?”

“Mhmm?”

Kurt took in a breath. “I love you.”

Instantly, Blaine’s face fell, and Kurt immediately panicked. He opened his mouth, ready to further his explanation, or add something--

Except, Blaine’s warm hands were framing his face, and those wide, golden eyes were locking on his. “Say that again,” Blaine said, fully awake and almost breathless.

“I love you?” Kurt said, a bit amused now.

Blaine’s lips crashed into his, peppering kiss after kiss, making Kurt giggle. “Say it again!” Blaine repeated, his face lit with joy.

“I love you, Blaine.” Kurt was met with another kiss, and now he was laughing giddily. Blaine simply kept kissing him senseless, eager and unable to say it back, for his lips couldn’t keep apart from Kurt’s long enough.

* * *

Lacy had her nose buried in her dish while her long tag wagged happily in the air. Blaine had just fed her breakfast, and now Kurt was sifting through the cupboards of the kitchen, also looking for something to eat.

Early morning sun was giving the penthouse a soft glow. Blaine had said, “Help yourself!” after Kurt claimed he was starving. He was discovering boxes of cereal and Pop Tarts, granola bars and oatmeal. Kurt twisted his mouth, putting these items into consideration, and then finally decided he could settle on pancakes.

After promptly retrieving the pancake mix from a high cupboard, he turned around and was met with Blaine’s hands edging around his waist.

“Yes?” Kurt asked, keeping his eyes on how Blaine’s mouth was leaning in.

Blaine hummed, taking the pancake mix from Kurt’s hands and setting it aside on the shiny countertop, so Kurt’s hands were free like his. They were both wearing only their boxers, Blaine having a white t-shirt on as well and Kurt borrowing one of Blaine’s soft, grey shirts. Their hair was still a mess, their feet bare. Blaine had on a dopey smile, and Kurt a coy grin.

“You really love me?” Blaine asked, smiling so big that the corners of his eyes crinkled.

His hands were snaking under Kurt’s shirt, fingertips skimming up his chest and coming to rest across his back. Kurt was holding back laughter, although his veins were bubbling with joy. The waking up in each other’s arms, the breakfast together, the sharing clothes and now _this_. Everything was feeling so domestic and _right_ , like this is how the world was meant to be.

Kurt nodded as an answer, pressing his lips into a smile that held back potential giggles. “In fact, I love you so much that I’ll make you a Mickey Mouse pancake.”

Blaine’s jaw dropped comically wide, finally bursting Kurt into laughter. He was hushed by a hard kiss to his cheek and left with a ‘ _mwah!_ ’ “You’re the best,” Blaine told him.

“Mmm, I know.”

They actually found themselves some time later with Kurt in front of the stove trying to pour the pancake mix the best he could while Blaine had his arms wrapped around his torso, smacking kisses to the back of his neck. Kurt was just about to warn him that if he didn’t stop, his Mickey pancake would have lopsided ears when a knock came from the front door.

“Are you decent?” called Tina’s voice, peeking around the corner with a cell phone in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. The two turned towards her, Blaine hugging Kurt closer and grinning broadly as Kurt waved.

She scanned their clothing and gave them a look (mostly directed at Blaine, including pursed red lips coupling the unspoken, ‘ _I should have known_ ’). “Anyway, Blainey, here’s your coffee.” Tina held out the cup.

“ _Yes!_ ” Blaine detached from Kurt and hurried over excitedly to her, accepting the cup and cradling it like it was a precious jewel. “Tina, you’re--”

“Uhuh, goddess material, I’m aware.” She flipped her long hair over a shoulder. “I’ll leave you two be after I take Lacy for her morning walk.”

Hearing her name, Lacy snapped her head up and perked her ears. Seeing Tina, she trotted on over, tongue lolling out as her tail wagged wildly.

Kurt eyed Blaine’s coffee cup after he returned. “Is that the ‘special’ coffee from Spotlight Diner?”

Blaine smiled bashfully, ducking his head as he took a sip. “Maybe.”

Tina left with Lacy on the purple leash and a wiggle of her fingers goodbye at the two of them. Kurt flipped the pancakes, none of the shapes perfect but not totally unrecognizable. Blaine retrieved the plates, giving one to Kurt after he scooped up a finished pancake with the spatula, carefully sliding it onto the dish.

Blaine raised his eyebrows, impressed at the food. “Thank you, darling.” Kurt accepted a quick kiss before he retrieved his own pancake.

They ate on the living room’s extremely comfy and expensive couch when Kurt’s phone buzzed against the end table. He balanced his plate with one palm as he reached over and grabbed it, Blaine watching as he chewed on Mickey’s right ear.

Swiping to unlock, Kurt read the text message. “It’s from Santana. She says that I’ve been banging for far too long and also Max has overruled her TV.” He looked over at Blaine. “I’d better get going.”

Blaine’s little smile was sad, but he understood. Standing, he offered to carry Kurt’s plate and asked, “Do you need to shower? You’re free to use mine.”

Kurt nodded, stretching his arms above his head. They had walked back to the kitchen, Blaine putting their dirty dishes next to the sink. Now it was Kurt’s turn to come up behind him, smoothing his palms across Blaine’s waist and around to the front of his cotton shirt, pressing forward and grinning impishly, though Blaine couldn’t see.

His boyfriend had straightened his posture in surprise, and Kurt brushed his lips to Blaine’s ear before he whispered, “Care to join me?”

The sultry didn’t last long, for Blaine whipped around and grabbed Kurt’s hand, hurrying them to the nearest bathroom with Kurt’s giggles echoing about the penthouse.

* * *

Regular life demanded his return, and so Kurt returned to his job at the diner, wiping off a booth table. It wasn’t a terrible day, just slow. Wednesday afternoon plus a summer day usually didn’t call too big of a crowd.

Max had just ventured into the restroom with Santana, who was on her break and available to escort him for any troubles. She had actually proven herself reliable for her babysitting skills. After Kurt showed up at her apartment to pick up Max after his night over at Blaine’s place, he was relieved to find his son intact and with a thrilled smile.

“Daddy, it was so much fun!” Max had told him, bouncing on the balls of his feet as Kurt knelt so he was eye-level. “Santana even taught me stuff in Spanish! Like, she said _hola_ means hi,” Max pronounced this with a long ‘ _A_ ’ but Kurt still beamed with pride, glancing up at Santana and seeing her smirk.

“Also,” Max continued, almost out of breath with how excited he was, “ _puta_ means Rachel, and I should call her that from now on.”

Kurt dropped his jaw, glaring daggers up at Santana who was trying to hide her sniggers and failing horribly. Quickly, he explained to Max to never let Santana teach him Spanish again.

Santana had her fun, assuring Kurt she won’t teach his son naughty words again. Still, it was nice to have extra help, considering Rachel rarely took shifts anymore since she had her _Funny Girl_ rehearsals to fill her time.

Stomach tightening, Kurt scrubbed the tabletop harder, pushing down his envy.

Maybe not envy, more like longing. Wishing he too was fulfilling his dreams.

Blaine had told him he deserved to, but it was near impossible. Not to mention if Kurt would throw his towel now and announce to the restaurant he was quitting to sing on Broadway, Ronny might actually burst into flames. He had already pissed off his manager more than once this morning--a simple mix up of Diet Coke and regular Coke and then the situation with not cleaning up this baby’s spilled soup fast enough.

Kurt huffed out a breath, straightening his back and stuffing his rag into his apron pocket. Just another day to get through. Although, the night’s plans sound peaceful. Max had checked out _A Goofy Movie_ DVD from the library, and hopefully that meant a quiet movie night cuddled on their couch.

Exhaling, Kurt turned to head back and see if any other tables needed cleaning, expect he was frozen in his tracks when he was met face-to-face with Liam.

His ex-husband opened his mouth to speak first, but Kurt hissed, “What are you doing here?!”

He wasn’t on break. Ronny would yell until his face turned red that Kurt wasn’t doing his job. Max could exit the bathroom anytime, meaning Liam would see him. Everything was wrong, this shouldn’t be happening, why was he _here--?_

“Just hear me out,” Liam said, holding his palms up in defense and using his ‘vulnerable’ eyes. Ones that with years of practice held the facade of ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I didn’t mean to.’ Big and watery and painted with lies.

Kurt squared his jaw, scanning around the restaurant. Ronny must be in the back, only a handful of other booths were occupied, and no one else was near to eavesdrop on them.

Might as well let Liam say his speech to avoid a blow up scene. The sooner this was over with, the better.

Crossing his arms to form some kind of barrier between them, Kurt evened his expression. “Okay, what is it?”

Liam licked his lips before reaching behind to his back pocket. He was wearing those khaki shorts again and brown sandals. His pure white polo had thin blue stripes lining the collar, and overall he appeared more level-headed than their previous meeting.

He pulled out what seemed to be a stack of images printed off the computer. Liam thrust them out at Kurt, waiting for him to take them before he started talking. “A little birdy told me you’re dating Blaine Anderson.”

Kurt’s eyes widened, and just as he was about to snap on who on earth told him, Liam went on, “Yeah, _the_ Blaine Anderson. So I thought you might want to see who he _really_ is.”

The images in his hands were black and white, some a little blurrier than others and some with too much flash, but it was obvious Blaine was the subject in them all.

Kurt’s stomach dropped. He gulped down a lump in his throat. His hands were trembling as he noticed what exactly these pictures were.

Blaine was younger, that was apparent. Probably early twenties, with a softer jaw and wilder hair. The camera angles were tilted in some, hazy as if taken in a split second. But Blaine was at parties and clubs, either oblivious to the photographer or like a deer in headlights when the camera flash went off.

What was more important that Blaine was caught in the act. In a majority of them his clothes were wrinkled and lopsided, sweat shining his forehead while he’d raise a beer can. Kurt wasn’t too disturbed by that, he had been to college, after all. What was worse, what made Kurt forget how to breathe properly and want to turn his head away, was what Blaine was doing at these parties.

Guys were draped around him like decoration. Men in a similar state to him, sometimes with even less clothing. They would be leaning against the bar, Blaine tilting the beer can back as some stranger mouthed his neck. Another fuzzy one with Blaine’s hands down some guy’s pants, his own belt unbuckled. In one Blaine getting a lap dance from two shirtless men at the same time.

This was Blaine’s reputation. The paparazzi who took these photos knew that, that’s why they made a gossip article about them. This is what Cooper warned him about, this is what Blaine said he changed from.

But these were from years ago. These shouldn’t be making Kurt sick to his stomach and blink rapidly. His mind shouldn’t be spinning with worry on how many of these guys were Blaine’s one night stands and collection of heartbreaks.

“He’s a player, Kurt,” Liam told him, bringing him back to the real world. “I know he must sound like a prince with his money and looks, but look at the facts.”

Kurt gripped the pile of pictures, letting them crease under his fingers. “This was a long time ago, Liam,” he said steadily. “People change. _You’re_ living proof.”

Liam was unaffected with the backlash. “Still, these are splattered all over those Hollywood gossip pages. It took me no time to find them.”

“So?” _This isn’t your problem. You shouldn’t be stalking my boyfriend, anyway. We’re not together, I’m not yours._

“So, what if Max finds them, too?”

Kurt blinked. “What?”

Liam gestured at the pictures. “These aren’t just going to disappear. Max might stumble upon them one day when he’s older. And what if you and Blaine are together and happy and married then, huh? And Max finds out the truth behind his ‘oh-so-perfect’ stepfather. What if he figures out the truth about the man his dad fell in love with?”

The papers were crinkling in Kurt’s fists. “Leave.”

“Kurt, I’m not trying to win you back right now. I’m thinking about our son--”

“ _Get out._ ”

“Have _you_ been thinking about him?”

“Go, or I’ll call the police!” Kurt shoved the pictures hard against his ex-husbands chest, pushing him away.

Liam stumbled, seeming ready to shout something back with how his eyebrows were drawn down and his lips were pressed thin. However, he never got the opportunity, for the kitchen doors were burst open and Ronny’s voice rang clear across the restaurant, “ _KURT!_ ”

Shooting him one final look that silently said, _You know I’m right_ , Liam strode away from Kurt, abandoning him to his manager’s wrath.

Kurt felt deflated, and didn’t even put up much of a fight when Ronny came to him and threatened this was his last warning, that if he slacked one more time he was fired. Not much of a danger, since Kurt had heard that warning multiple times in the last five years.

Max and Santana returned from the restroom, mirroring confusing as Ronny stomped away from Kurt. “What happened?” Santana asked. “Did you leave a crumb on a table?”

Kurt shook his head, not up for his friend’s sarcasm. He sighed, rubbing his eyes and knowing he should return to work. But Max was tugging at his pant leg, wanting his attention.

“Santana flushed the toilet for me,” Max said, hesitating on his enthusiasm.

“Honey, that’s great.”

“Are you sad, Daddy?”

Kurt winced, disliking how Max was worried about him. He was five, simply a child. It wasn’t his job to make sure his father was alright. Even through all these years of Kurt going through so much emotional turmoil, it didn’t mean Max should be affected by his burdens. That was something Kurt was persistent on.

“No, Maxie,” Kurt replied, pushing away the guilt of lying through his teeth. “Everything’s fine.”


	13. Chapter 13

Cooper was just hanging up his phone when his little brother walked in.

Two things surprised him right away. Number one being Blaine was in LA, standing at the doorway to his office when Cooper knew for a fact this was the last place Blaine ever wanted to be. Second, the expression on Blaine’s face wasn’t angry or annoyed, rather he looked calm and maybe a little tentative.

“Yes?” Cooper asked, because how else were you supposed to get answers from whatever the hell Blaine wanted?

Blaine shifted on his feet. He wore a red plaid shirt under a grey blazer and matching dress pants, although it was pretty obvious he had just came off an airplane. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and stepped forward. “I wanted to talk to you. In person.”

Cooper raised his eyebrows before leaning back in his desk chair. “Alright. Wanna take a seat?”

It sounded like he was talking to a customer and not his brother. Blaine shook his head, walking to the front of the desk. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?”

“About what you’ve said.”

“I’ve said a lot of things.”

Blaine glared at him, quickly regaining his poise a moment later. “ _The Anderson Suites_ is a family company, it always has been.”

Crossing his legs, Cooper waited for Blaine to go on. If this conversation was going where he thought, he didn’t want to interrupt.

Blaine was looking at the wall to his right and fixing his mouth, as if trying to figure out how to word his sentence carefully. “So...I was thinking. Maybe I could...be...apart of the company.”

If Cooper had zero dignity, he’d be hopping out of his chair and onto his desk, clapping and yelling, ‘ _I knew it!_ ’ at his brother. Instead, a corner of his mouth quirked up, and he only said, “Really?”

 Blaine scowled, apparently not liking Cooper’s satisfaction in this. “I’m twenty-eight with no job. I know this business inside-out, and maybe I don’t need a high position like you in it but...I want to be included. Managing and making decisions and such.”

Cooper tilted his head, using all his strength not to laugh, although he desperately wanted to. “Who are you and what have you done to my brother Blaine?”

Blaine rolled his eyes, wrinkling his nose and mimicking laughter, “Ha ha ha. I’m being serious, you know.”

“But why the sudden change of thought, Blainey?” Cooper held out his hands. “Every time I came to you with the offer, you refused.”

“Yeah, but...that was before.”

“Before?”

Letting out a sigh, Blaine finally slumped down on a chair in front of Cooper’s desk, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands folded. “Kurt got me thinking, alright? I love him more than anything, Coop. And I want us to continue being serious and committed and I was thinking, if I want to support him how can I if Dad would cut me off one day? It doesn’t have to be anything big, I just want to be a part of the company. I want to take responsibility and prove I can do this.”

Cooper was actually baffled by this speech. He was truly at a lost for words until he could finally say, “Wow...it took Kurt to get your head out of your ass?”

Blaine’s sincere expression broke into laughter. “Yeah, I guess he did.”

“Damn...wow. I mean, that’s great. Does he know you’re here?”

“In your office? Nah. I did tell him I was visiting for the night, though.”

“Can’t stay away from the Big Apple too long?”

Blaine smiled. “More like I can’t stay away from my boyfriend for too long.”

Cooper shook his head, fighting back a grin. “I’m proud of you, Blaine. And I’d be more than happy for you to help us make decisions with the hotels and projects.”

He clapped his hands, tucking them under his chin. “Awesome.”

“This means you’ll have to go to meetings with Dad.”

Blaine’s smile fell into a frown. “Ugh.”

“Get used to it,” Cooper said, pointing a finger at him. “And it might mean less time with your precious Kurt. If you’re willing to sacrifice that.”

Sighing, Blaine slumped back into his seat. “I suppose. He has his job, too. And the mess with his ex-husband to deal with.”

Cooper lowered his brow. “Ex-husband?”

“Yeah. Super crazy guy named Liam Kelly. He did some horrible shit to Kurt and his son and...yeah. He’s trying to reason with Kurt and see Max, even though Kurt has full custody over him. A couple days ago he even went to the diner again to confront him, and thankfully didn’t meet Max.”

Something about this situation wasn’t settling right with Cooper. He leaned forward on his desk, clicking his tongue as he thought about it. “Is that legal?”

Blaine threw his hands up. “Probably not! The guy was a drunk and made Kurt’s life crap.”

Cooper nodded, lost in filing through options in his mind. Of course he wouldn’t say anything to Blaine yet, he didn’t know for sure…

His brother was standing, tugging his blazer straight and relaxing his shoulders. “Anyway, I better be going. I was going to buy Max’s birthday present before I left.”

Cooper blinked, coming out of his pondering and regaining his composure, standing as well. “Yes, you should.” He then stuck out a hand in a formal manner. “Pleasure doing business with you, little brother.”

Blaine arched an eyebrow at him in a very _Are you serious?_ way. Even so, he rolled his neck and reluctantly shook Cooper’s hand, replying, “You too, Coop.”

He watched as Blaine turned and exited his office, and Cooper didn’t even try to hide how much he was beaming.

* * *

Max’s sixth birthday was on July tenth, and just like every other year he sat at the Hummels’ tiny square dining table, a birthday hat strapped over top his brown hair and a circular birthday cake placed in front of him.

He was wide-eyed, watching his father light the six candles. Rachel was standing to the right, her camera out and positioned to snap a picture at any moment. Santana was next to her girlfriend, Brittany, who was the only person other than Max wearing a polka-dotted birthday hat.

The only new guest here was Blaine, who was smiling at Max’s eagerness.

Kurt explained to him beforehand how Max normally had small birthday celebrations. After Max started school, he didn’t want to worry about the hassle of children being invited over to their small apartment--or the reaction from parents when they dropped their kids off. So, that’s why only a few close friends came over, bearing presents and congratulations for the birthday boy.

As far as Blaine could tell, Max didn’t mind the situation. His face was covered in joy, shadows dancing on his cheeks from the candles. Santana flicked off the lights, and Kurt stood next to Blaine, exhaling and letting Blaine slide a hand around his waist before they all started singing the ‘ _Happy Birthday_ ’ song.

Max couldn’t take his eyes off the cake. Kurt bought it from a nearby grocery store, but it still looked delicious. What more could a kid want than chocolate cake with chocolate frosting? He almost couldn’t contain himself as they finished the song, Rachel being the loudest on, “ _Happy birthday, dear Maxie…_ ” Finally, Max planted his palms on either side of the cake, lifted himself up on his knees, and puffed up his cheeks to blow out the candles.

The guests clapped, Santana turning the lights back on. Blaine watched Kurt hurry over and wave away the thin streams of smoke, plucking the candles free before Max could reach out and grab them.

However, Max was too busy rambling excitedly to Rachel, saying how he had wished for an Iron Man suit. Rachel knelt beside him and gently explained one shouldn’t reveal their birthday wishes, for it might not come true.

With how quickly Max’s face transformed into distraught, Santana jumped in to save from any waterworks. “Don’t worry, you get a pass on the first time.”

Now Max was smiling again, and Kurt shot her a look that clearly said, _Great, now he thinks he’s gonna actually get one._ She only shrugged and crossed her arms smugly.

“Presents?” Max asked his father, already halfway out his seat.

“ _After_ cake,” Kurt told him, ignoring his son’s pout.

They all ate their slice standing around the table, Max finishing his long before them and throwing his hands in the air. “All done! Now can I open my presents?”

The party moved to the living room, Max seated on the sofa with Blaine and Kurt on his left and Rachel sitting on the arm to his right. Santana and Brittany were cross-legged on the floor, their hands linked. Max was already tearing open his first gift when Kurt leaned over and whispered into Blaine’s ear, “Tell me you didn’t get him anything huge.”

Blaine just grinned, letting his hand rest at the small of Kurt’s back. “It’s not an Iron Man suit, I’ll tell you that.”

Max gasped loudly, holding the present from Rachel ahead of him. “A Nerf gun?” He gaped up at Kurt. “Rachel got me a Nerf gun!”

Santana was cackling while Rachel pressed a kiss to the top of Max’s head. Blaine saw the frown Kurt was giving his friend, and he too wanted to laugh, but only rubbed Kurt’s back and kept to smiling.

Brittany and Santana had given him nice, striped polo shirts, which Kurt was more excited about than Max. Rachel was grabbing the next gift on the coffee table, taking two hands to hold up the largest box, blue wrapping paper with a crimson bow on top.

Max was bouncing on the couch cushion, unaware of the look Kurt was giving Blaine. Raised eyebrow, slight pursing of the lips, but Blaine shushed him, unable to keep a serious face as Rachel went, “Ooo!” and Santana mumbled to Brittany, “Great, it’s probably a real life Chris Evans.” In which Brittany replied, “That’s silly. His organs would be crushed.”

Max ripped off the paper, throwing it off to the side and hastily opening the lid to the gift. Kurt helped him keep the box steady on his lap, also curiously peering inside and dropping his jaw along with Max when he pulled out the item.

“A Captain America shield?!” Max exclaimed, clutching the red, white, and blue Toys “R” Us packaged present. “It’s so awesome!”

Kurt;s mouth was still hanging open when he turned to Blaine, impressed and utterly astounded. Blaine merely shrugged modestly, although inside he was filled with pride.

Rachel was going, “Wow!” when Max showed it to her, and assisted in taking it out of the cardboard packaging. He slid the bands onto his arm, bearing the shield in front of him, his smile the widest Blaine had ever seen.

“What do you say?” Kurt said.

“Thank yooooou!” Max bounded over to Blaine, throwing his arms around his torso so hard Blaine was caught off guard, letting out an, “ _O_ _of!_ ” as the other adults chuckled and _aww_ ed.

“He’s not going to be able to part from that shield,” Kurt told Blaine once the party was over.

Santana and Brittany had left first, both giving Max a kiss on the cheek at the same time as goodbye. Rachel was last, offering to help clean up and have a quick chat before Max was put to bed. Once she was gone, Kurt lead Max off to bed, agreeing he could sleep with his new Captain America shield as long as he brushed his teeth and put on his pajamas quickly.

Now, the apartment was dimly lit, and Blaine had poured them a glass of wine (a gift he had brought solely for him and Kurt) and Kurt decided to take him out to a place Blaine had never been before: the fire escape outside his apartment window.

The street below them glimmered with the dull yellow streetlamps. Sounds of cars and pedestrians and other city life bustled as well. They were on the fifth floor, it had the privacy and the view they desired. Kurt had his legs folded underneath him and Blaine with his back to the brick wall, knees bent and toes nudging the opposite railing.

“Hey, you said he wanted anything to do with Captain America,” Blaine pointed out, lifting his glass Kurt’s direction. “I was just following orders.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, biting back a grin. “It’s just…” His eyes met Blaine’s, and his smile softened. “Max always wanted a shield like that. And...you know, they’re so damn expensive and I could never…” His thumbs rubbed idly against his wine glass. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Blaine said, reaching over and taking one of Kurt’s hands to twine with his. “Anything to make him happy.”

The summer air was humid at night still, only a faint breeze to keep them cool. The sleeves on Kurt’s sky blue button-up were rolled to his elbows. His boyfriend sighed, eyes down at their locked fingers. However, something shifted after his exhale, something Blaine had come to witness these last few days.

How Kurt’s smile would fall, the way he got this faraway look. A barely-there crease would appear between his eyebrows.

Blaine had brushed it off other times, assuming Kurt was simply wandering off on a train of thoughts. Now, he couldn’t keep it silent anymore. He squeezed Kurt’s fingers, ducking his head to try and meet those distant eyes. “Is something wrong?”

Kurt blinked, looking up and bringing himself back. He visibly straightened his shoulders, fixing his expression to more alert and present. “Hm? No, everything’s fine.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said. They’ve been dating for almost three months. Blaine was aware when Kurt was lying or not.

Caving, Kurt set his glass of mostly finished wine on the windowsill, scooting closer to Blaine and relaxing his tense shoulders. “I need to talk to you about something.”

Blaine nodded, listening intently.

“Okay, so...remember how Liam came to the diner a few days ago?” Kurt started.

Fingers gripping Kurt’s tightened and his jaw clenched, but Blaine managed to nod again.

“Alright so...I told you that he talked to me and I never elaborated on what exactly…” Kurt continued, looking off to the side rather than Blaine’s face.

“And?”

Kurt worried his bottom lip before saying, “Okay, so he somehow found out me and you are dating.”

“What--?”

“I don’t know how, since no one that I know told him,” Kurt said quickly. “But, now that he knows he was trying to use your... _background_ to persuade me that our relationship is a terrible decision.”

Blaine mouth was parted, and he was shaking his head to try and clear his mind. Background? Terrible decision? “I--wh--?”

Kurt swallowed, glancing at the window next to them. The one that lead indoors to his small home, where his son was sound asleep. “Yeah...he even brought ‘evidence’ to support his case.”

Evidence?

Then it hit him. Blaine’s stomach dropped all five stories to the pavement below. Cooper had told Kurt the stories, that he knew. Kurt accepted his past, as long as the promises for their future were sincere. Which it was, that was for sure. But if his ex-husband had somehow found...and _shown_ Kurt…

Blaine’s grasp on his glass was so strong he was surprised it hadn’t shattered. Oh, if he _ever_ happened to meet Liam again…

Kurt was shaking his head, gesturing his free hand. “Listen, I know we’ve talked about it and that Max will hopefully understand if he ever discovers it--”

“Max?” Blaine asked, voice oddly hoarse.

“Oh. Um...yeah. That was Liam’s argument. That you were an unfit and irresponsible choice in the well-being of Max.” Kurt scoffed. “Like he has any say in what I deem fit or not.”

Blaine found himself actually considering Liam’s claim. When he had met Kurt, all those memories of his, well, _promiscuous_ , past had vanished. None of his decisions back then mattered anymore when he and Kurt became official. Even that mishap at the gala was settled in no time. Even so, he had never even considered what it might mean to Max...who was a child and had no idea…

“I basically told him to fuck off the best I could in a family-friendly establishment,” Kurt was saying. “But I just thought I’d talk about it with you, since, well, our relationship is getting more serious and--”

“I’m so sorry, Kurt,” Blaine interrupted, his chest feeling hollow. One of his legs fell so it was resting between two of the fire escape’s railings. “I should’ve realized what this would mean. I wasn’t thinking…”

Kurt gave him a funny look. “What are you talking about? Blaine, we’ve been over this. I know about your past and you know about mine. Sure, mine wasn’t as... _active_ as yours. Those pictures didn’t exactly make me burst with joy, but I’m a mature adult. I can handle that.”

Blaine shook his head. “But what about Max?”

His boyfriend smiled gently. “We’re in a serious relationship, remember? Hopefully, if the day is to come...we can _both_ explain it to Max. He really does love you, Blaine, and even _if_ he’s upset at first, he’ll come to understand like I have.”

The thought of Max potentially _hating_ him was still too much to bear. Blaine exhaled all the air held in his lungs, hanging his head. “I’m an idiot.”

“No,” Kurt said. “Your past-self was an idiot. But right now, you’re my Blaine, who I love very dearly and know is the absolute best fit for my son.”

Blaine’s mouth twitched up at the words _my Blaine_ , and eventually lifted his head up to meet Kurt’s eyes.

Their hands had stayed connected the entire time. Kurt kept choosing him, kept trusting and loving him. Blaine wanted to be everything Kurt deserved, and Kurt told him that he was.

God, what had he done in his previous lives to be blessed with this man?

“Well,” Blaine finally said, “to keep on this happy note, I went to LA and talked to Cooper. About being a part of the company.”

Kurt gasped, his entire expression shifting from content to absolute joy and pride. “Oh, my god! Really?”

“Mhmm. He said he was more than happy that I accepted the position.”

“Blaine! That’s amazing!” Kurt closed the space between them on that tiny fire escape and threw his arms the best he could around Blaine’s neck, hugging him close and kissing his cheek.

Blaine laughed, his chest feeling whole again. He liked this feeling, knowing he was becoming responsible and making Kurt happy, being there for him and his family.

“See? Things are coming around,” Kurt told him, elated and breathless. “All we need to do is take care of the ex-douche.”

“And make sure Max doesn’t break anything with his new Nerf gun,” Blaine teased.

Kurt groaned as Blaine laughed, resting their foreheads together. “Don’t remind me. Damnit Rachel.”

“Use his shield to protect yourself?”

“Mmm. I guess this means more intense games of Captain America versus the Winter Soldier.”

“Who?”

Kurt snorted. “Max would be so disappointed in you right now.”

Blaine shrugged, allowing them to fall into the silence of just them. With their bodies leaning against each other and their noses brushing, Kurt exhaling as his eyes closed. City life thrummed below, a steady noise enclosing them.

“So we’re still a team?” Blaine asked him softly.

Kurt quirked a smile, his eyes opening. “Remember when you officially asked me out? And I said that this wasn’t going to be easy? You replied with, ‘I don’t want easy, I just want you.’” His thumb smoothed across Blaine’s shoulder. “The statement goes for me, too. I intend to keep fighting for us, no matter what crap comes our way.”

Blaine broke out in a grin, one so wide he could feel his eyes squinting and his heart soaring. “God, I love you,” he breathed.

“I love you, too” Kurt said, smiling toothily, his dimples appearing. Blaine’s favorite kind of smile. “And I promise this storm will be over with soon.”

And Blaine believed him.


	14. Chapter 14

The sweet elderly couple in matching plaid vests had their orders, and Kurt was turning to return to the bar when a girl suddenly appeared in front of him.

“Hi!” she said, perky and excited. A startling bang to the noise of Kurt’s morning, which wore him down to exhausted. Customers kept filing in and out of the diner like a constant flow. Not even his lunch break was long enough for him to regain energy.

He blinked, raising his eyebrows and attempting an alert smile. “Hello, can I help you?”

She was younger than him, maybe early twenties. Her wavy, orange hair fell over her shoulders, and a pair of square, black-rimmed glasses framed her brown eyes. Her one-shoulder shirt had _the Rolling Stones_ logo across it, and her denim skinny jeans were ripped at the knees.

What was curious was the stack of red flyers she held against her chest. “My name is Brooke. I was wondering if I could hang one of these up in the window?” She promptly held one of the papers to Kurt, practically shoving it in his face.

He steadied it with his own hands in order to read it. Once he did, his eyebrows furrowed. “A musical?”

Brooke was absolutely bubbling. “It’s an off-Broadway production. Actually, more like off-off-Broadway. You’ve probably never heard of it, _The Indigo Lover_. It’s about a local New York aristocrat who has twenty-four hours to track down the mysterious young woman he bumps into. He goes through a lot of obstacles and stuff, meeting different characters of the city all through the journey, discovering clues and such. Yeah, spoiler alert, he finds the girl in the end. _But_ there is a plot twist, of course.”

Kurt nodded, still reading the flyer. “It says...there’s open auditions?”

“Yep!” Brooke said. “Our director wants the raw, fresh talent of New Yorkers. That’s why we need to advertise the best we can around local businesses.” She sort of swayed on her feet. “So may I hang it up?”

He didn’t reply at first, for his eyes were glued to the flyer. Something was expanding inside of him, a bright, warm glow which only caused him to space off in a wonderful daydream.

In fact, Kurt hadn’t felt this inspired in years.

Raw, fresh talent? He hadn’t performed since he graduated from NYADA. Still, a chance like this didn’t come around any day. The auditions were in a few weeks, yet Kurt was already picturing what his dream-self was trying out with, how he presented himself on stage, how he floored the director--

Reality snapped back in motion, and Kurt shook his head a little to clear his thoughts. “Um. Sure. I’ll ask my manager and hang it up myself.”

Brooke grinned, thanked him, and turned on her heel to exit the diner.

Kurt then ordered himself to forget about it, as he strode to the bar and slid behind it, placing the flyer on the table. Except he couldn’t lift his palm away. The opportunity was so tempting...maybe he could take a glance at it again--

_Max. Job. Money. Food on table. Responsibilities._

Shaking his head more firmly this time, Kurt huffed out a breath and turned away from the red paper. He just needed to focus on the present, and what he knew for sure his future involved. To distract himself, he went over the list.

_Finish work._

_Pick up Max from Rachel’s._

_Read the bills._

_No, pay the bills._

_Need to buy groceries._

_Need to buy Max’s school supplies._

_Need to get him new tennis shoes._

God, why did everything have to cost _money?_

His shoulders slumped. Perhaps he should just busy himself with cleaning off the countertop.

Kurt grabbed the cloth just as another customer arrived up to him, someone who slammed their palms on the bar and caused Kurt to jolt, snapping his attention up.

“Kurt,” the man said flatly.

A hard lump formed in Kurt’s throat. “Liam.”

For the third time, Liam had barged into Kurt’s life. Uninvited and with no warning. The first time he had made Kurt angry. The second he had made Kurt nauseous.

Now, the third, his presence only made Kurt’s eyes sting. He didn’t want to deal with this. He was too tired, his mind having too much rattling around in it without his ex-husband’s outrage to add.

“I’m getting impatient, Kurt,” Liam told him. “Believe me, I tried to wait. I tried to be reasonable, but I’ve had enough.”

Kurt parted his mouth, startled and bewildered. At least Liam’s voice wasn’t raised to have customers stop and stare yet. At least the bar counter was between them, as some sort of blockade to his tirade.

“Max recently turned six,” Liam said, eyes never wavering although his jaw clenched. “Yes, I remembered. He’s six years old and I still haven’t been able to see him again.”

“Liam--” His ex-husband’s voice was gradually rising, and if it would get anything close to a shout people will notice. Ronny would emerge, all his coworkers would see. Kurt wanted to run, to fold up and disappear. He didn’t want to deal with this.

“Kurt, he’s my son!” Liam pounded a fist on the counter. “You let some scumbag rich whore see him but not his own father--?!”

“Ah, you must be Mr. Hummel and Mr. Kelly,” said the newest voice to Kurt that day.

A woman came up beside Liam, her dark red-lipstick smile thin towards him, but more sympathetic to Kurt. She was slender and pretty; rich, brown, and flawless skin with black hair swept over one shoulder. Kurt guessed she was older than Brooke, older than him even. She wore a deep purple fitting jacket and matching pants, her black heels giving her a few more inches in height.

“Who the hell are you?” Liam demanded, apparently not liking the interruption.

The woman kept smiling that thin smile at him, and calmly pulled out a card from her jacket’s inside pocket. “I am Victoria Anderson. Family law lawyer. I’m sorry, Mr. Hummel, we haven’t been properly introduced.” She turned focus to him, her smile bright again. “But you’ve met my husband Cooper, correct?”

Kurt’s mouth was fully hanging now. What exactly was going on?

“ _Anderson?_ ” Liam sneered, glaring at the card and then at Victoria.

She arched an eyebrow at him. “ _Yes_. And you are Liam Kelly. Twenty-nine, a writer for _Sunset_ magazine.” To answer their shocked expressions, Victoria lifted a briefcase she had been holding, placing it on the bar and unclasping it. “Known to have a history in alcoholism.”

Before Liam could step forward and snarl a comeback, Victoria neatly brought out a file. “Yes, you and Mr. Hummel divorced roughly five years ago, perhaps due to your habits?” She quirked up a corner of her lips knowingly, then continued, “It was settled in court that Mr. Hummel be taken full custody of your son, Max Alexander Hummel-Kelly. Whose name, which was the court’s decision to be best option for the child, is now Max Alexander Hummel.”

While Kurt remained baffled, Liam lifted a finger in protest. “Now, wait a second, ma’am--”

In response, she interrupted quickly, her eyes not flickering from the papers. “It was also the court’s decision that due to your habits, Mr. Kelly, you would not be given visitation hours unless approved by Mr. Hummel _or_ until Max Hummel turned eighteen.”

“I don’t think you have the right to--”

“ _Family_ law, Mr. Kelly,” Victoria snapped with such grace, even Kurt was astonished. “I’ve dealt with cases like yours countless times.”

“And whose lawyer are you, _Mrs._ Anderson?” Liam retorted.

Victoria looked at Kurt, her eyes locking with his. Her expression softened. “Mr. Hummel is considered family. The Anderson family is strong and powerful, so naturally I would be best fit for his case.”

“What case?!” Liam exclaimed, throwing his hands up. Kurt noticed how his face was flushed with anger and frustration. He had come into the Spotlight Diner to have his final confrontation with Kurt, not to be shut down by a stranger who held authority over him

Victoria flipped a paper, skimming until she reached the desired paragraph. “Ah, yes. See, Mr. Kelly, violation of your visitation rights means disobeying court orders. Which, in result could cause more court time, costing you and _only_ you money, Mr. Kelly. Then, there’s no telling what could happen to you. Being denied all conceivable rights to visit your child again. Possible jail time, perhaps.”

Liam’s skin went pale in seconds. His grey eyes grew wide in horror

Her lips were pressed together when she smiled at Liam. “You could always plead to court to adjust your visitation rights instead of constantly harassing Mr. Hummel, of course. Although at this point--and with myself defending Mr. Hummel’s side--there’s a very, _very_ slim chance you would win.”

Kurt found himself holding his breath. Liam was staring at Victoria, his chest heaving and his jaw tight. She waited peacefully for a reply, although it was pretty clear she knew it already.

Liam blew air sharply from his nose, snapped his attention to Kurt and wore this look which distinctively read,  _This isn’t over_. He then turned and stormed out of the diner, pushing the doors harshly and walking out of sight.

Victoria seemed satisfied as she collected her files and organized them back into her briefcase. Kurt, however, remained frozen, still in shock at what just happened.

“Thank you,” he finally said.

Victoria smiled happily at him. “You’re quite welcome. And hopefully, your ex-husband will be smart enough to return to California. If he comes back again, please tell me. I’ll take care of everything.”

Kurt nodded, blinking a few times to try and snap back in motion. “How…?”

“Did I know of your current situation? Cooper told me, because Blaine told him.” She exhaled, straightening her shoulders. “So, I came here as fast as I could to handle it.”

Kurt nodded again, a smile tugging at his mouth.

“My apologizes for interrupting your job, but I need to be going. Meeting with the in-laws and whatnot.” She waved a hand, rolling her eyes. “But, here is my business card if you need anything.”

After she retrieved the one from her pocket, Kurt accepted it and cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said again.

Her smile was gentle. “It’s like I said, you’re family now. Family looks after one another.”

* * *

“I think he left for good! Oh, my god, you should have seen his face, Blaine! It was amazing!”

Kurt watched as Blaine beamed up at him yet again, his face shining with joy. Kurt was absolutely vibrating, adrenaline and happiness thrumming his veins. Granted, that might also be because the second he stepped foot into Blaine’s penthouse, he flung himself into his boyfriend’s arms and kissed him senseless.

Which was why they were now panting on Blaine’s couch, Kurt’s uniform red and black shirt unbuttoned as he straddled Blaine’s lap, and Blaine’s curls springing free from its gel while he rested his hands on Kurt’s legs. Kurt breathlessly told the entire story to Blaine, rambling with excitement while his boyfriend listened intently.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy,” Blaine said, reaching up to gently push a strand of hair away from Kurt’s forehead.

Kurt shrugged, smiling even bigger. Perhaps it was true he was so excited that at the first chance he could he hurried over to Blaine’s building, desperate to tell the news in person, but it was more so the feeling of victory. That the stormclouds had vanished, streaming in clear sunlight.

“We don’t have to worry about him ever again,” Kurt told him, slinking his arms around Blaine’s shoulders. “And you deserve partial thanks for that.”

Blaine’s grin dropped a notch. “What do you mean?”

“Victoria said you told Cooper, so that’s why Cooper told her,” Kurt replied. “I mean, in any other case I might be upset that you revealed the story of the ex-douche to someone, but...because you did, everything’s okay again.”

Blaine’s shining, golden eyes hooded as Kurt leaned his forehead against his, his heartbeat calm to its normal rate. He felt Blaine’s thumb pads rub circles against his thighs.

“He’s really never going to bother you anymore?”

Kurt nodded, humming a little. It’s what he wanted to believe, and the reality was more likely than not. Liam might get angry and jealous, but he wasn’t an idiot. Kurt was sure nothing for Liam was worth the risk of being sued or imprisoned.

It was mid-afternoon. A pleasant glow of sunlight lit the living room through those huge windows. Lacy was taking a nap at her circular bed in the kitchen, her soft snores could be heard from where the two were sitting. Kurt was slipping his eyes closed, basking in the standstill of time. Reveling in the fact he was wrapped up in a person he loved and was loved in return, their skin warm and their pulses in sync.

“Today was amazing,” Kurt breathed out, his fingers playing with the collar of Blaine’s plaid button-up. Blaine’s eyes were fully opened, watching him again. “Ronny didn’t get mad at me, Rachel was available for babysitting, we got news of this new Broadway show in town, Liam had his final words. And now I’m with you.” He smiled, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth. “It’s amazing.”

A corner of Blaine’s well-kissed lips lifted higher than the other, until he blinked and realized. “Wait, what Broadway show?”

“Oh.” A detail Kurt surprisingly didn’t babble about. “It was just something a girl mentioned to me. They’re holding, you know, open auditions. She gave me a flyer but...it was nothing.” He waved a hand, hoping to brush it off.

Except now Blaine was as thrilled as Kurt was earlier. “Open auditions? Kurt, you should totally do it!”

“Blaine!” He gave his boyfriend an incredulous look. “Are you serious? No, I’ve told you--”

“Maybe this is a sign,” Blaine said, completely serious. He pulled Kurt closer to him, bringing his hands up to cup either side of his face. “Think about it, all the _amazing_ things happening, leading up to this!” He grinned, eyes bright. “You deserve to live your dream, baby, and now’s your chance.”

Kurt wanted to roll his eyes, even though that warmth of inspiration repeated in his chest. What Blaine was talking about, what Kurt silently wished to come true, was easier said than done.

“What about your day?” Kurt asked, ignoring the look Blaine was giving him for changing topics. “How was it, working with your dad?”

Blaine actually did roll his eyes, dropping his head against the sofa. “Long. Lots of talking. And organizing. I mean, I like being productive and knowing I’m actually _doing_ something useful...but it’s just a huge change to my normal life. I’ll get the hang of it, of course.”

“Of course.” Kurt let his fingertips skim to Blaine’s neck, locking together around the back.

Rachel would be calling soon, Kurt knew that. Saying how he needed to return ASAP for she absolutely could not be late her rehearsal. Kurt was tempted to ask Blaine to come over as well, perhaps they could have a sleepover. Although, with the events of today and how energized and overjoyed Kurt was with those events, they most likely wouldn’t be _sleeping_.

And, with Max and their one-room apartment, that would _not_ be a good idea.

So, just them in their own world was good enough for him. He sighed contently, before noticing this expression Blaine was giving him. One with raised eyebrows and a smile pressed together and quirked at a corner.

“What?”

Blaine tilted his head. “You _are_ going to that audition, right?”

Kurt groaned, rolling his shoulders for a shrug. It was a battle. Of course he wanted to. He craved for it, to have his dreams become a reality. To achieve his goals like Rachel had, to live the life he always wanted. But his life wasn’t like Blaine’s. He had a job that he needed desperately. He had a son that needed _him_.

Yet, things were different now. Kurt wasn’t crushing his wishful thinking like a bug under his shoe. He allowed them to linger, he was letting them keep him elated.

Kurt bit back a smile. “I’ll think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I really am sorry I haven't been updating as much as I wish (hopefully life will be less busy now) but thank you for being so patient! I am so excited to show you what I have in store for the future chapters!! :D  
> So, here's a thank you to everyone reading and waiting. I love each and every one of you <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15 chapters already?? Gosh, I love you guys. Thank you for being my motivation <3 Enjoy!

August’s heat bled into cool September.

And Kurt Hummel had a plan.

It was true, the idea of performing on Broadway (even if it was off-off Broadway) sparked inspiration inside him. Inspiration he just couldn’t ignore.

So, naturally he did pick up an audition script at the theater. “Just to see what it’s about,” he had protested after Rachel’s curious expression. “It’s not like I’m seriously considering it.”

Which was why he found himself singing the tryout song as he made meals or was cleaning up the apartment. Max questioned it at first. Mostly it was, “Why are you singing the same song _again_ , Daddy?” But as the days went by, Kurt would catch Max humming along as he played with his Power Rangers at the coffee table.

Kurt took in as much hours as possible. With Rachel and _Funny Girl_ , she rarely worked at all. He graciously took as many of her shifts as he could. Not only did Max had school right around the corner, meaning school supplies and new tennis shoes, but those unpaid bills on rent were an ominous reminder every time Kurt walked past them.

The landlord, Duane--a balding man with glasses always sitting on the edge of his nose and a personality indifferent to children, for whenever Max would try to say hi he would give him a blank look--had let it slide last month. Out of “sympathy” for Kurt’s situation, he had said. Apparently a majority of the people in the apartment building knew all about Liam.

Kurt had a hunch it was Ms. Beaumont’s doing--an older woman who wore her fur coat often and shared gossip with whoever joined her at the mailboxes.

Blaine enjoyed helping him memorize his page of lines. Still, whenever Blaine would get cheerful over the fact Kurt was auditioning, Kurt would brush it off with a maybe. That this wasn’t a set thing, and he was simply having fun playing a character again.

But as the audition date crept nearer, the ‘maybe’ was turning into a ‘perhaps’ which quickly transformed into a ‘probably’ and was now an itch in Kurt’s skin, having him think the words ‘audition’ and ‘yes’ in the same sentence.

He wanted to do this.

And he was going to.

The audition was on a Thursday, set between 3:00 to 4:00. Although Kurt usually was allowed a short twenty-minute break at three to pick up Max from school, he couldn’t possibly do that and audition in that period, while also returning to work on time.

Which was why Kurt had a plan.

He had ticked off Ronny more times than normal. They were stupid incidents, such as forgetting tomatoes on someone’s sandwich or not cleaning up tables fast enough. Rumor had it Ronny was fighting with his wife again, however Kurt was just convinced his manager loathed him with every ounce of his soul.

So, on Kurt’s lunch break that Thursday, he called Blaine.

“Good afternoon, darling,” Blaine greeted, probably at his office.

Joining _The Anderson Suites_  business meant Blaine’s time was spent at meetings with his father and no more lunch dates with Kurt. It was a saddening change, but Kurt said as long as Blaine was working, he could live with it. Besides, that meant date nights were even more special. Even if Max would be in chair number three during a candlelight dinner at the Hummels’.

“Can you do me a favor?” Kurt asked rather quickly.

“Um, depends on the favor?” Blaine said, a bit amused.

Kurt picked apart his sandwich nervously, staring out the window he was seated by and not focusing on the passersby. If step one failed, nothing else would work. “Okay, so I am auditioning for _The Indigo Lover_ today.”

He heard Blaine cheer and Kurt smiled despite himself. “Yes, yes. But it’s at three today so could you pretty please pick up Max from school?”

“Oh, sure thing! Do you want us to just relax at my place or…?”

Kurt chewed his lip. Max hadn’t been over to Blaine’s lavish penthouse. They haven’t even hung out with just the two of them. It _would_ be a good bonding experience, and the image of Max meeting Lacy was too adorable to keep a serious face.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll just come over after my shift’s done.”

“Awesome!” Blaine said. “Kurt...I’m so proud of you for doing this. You of all people should be living their dreams.”

Kurt rolled his eyes and ducked his head. “I’m just auditioning. I haven’t even gotten the roll yet.”

“But you will! You’re insanely talented. They’d be idiotic to not cast you.”

Kurt was definitely blushing now. “You’ve got a biased opinion, Blaine.”

“But I’m right!”

“I love you. Thanks for doing this.”

“Anything. And I love you, too!”

Step one: complete.

Kurt waited and waited for the clock to land on three. It felt like time was purposely dragging on just to encourage his nerves. Santana noticed, and kept shooting him weird looks, glancing at the clock as well like it held the answers to Kurt’s overreacting.

When the hour hand hit three, Kurt hastily untied his apron and threw it on his hook, casually grabbing his script and waving goodbye to Santana, ignoring her confused hand gesture.

Everything was fine, he was on schedule. The theater was a couple blocks away, he just had to keep walking briskly.

Kurt felt exhilarated. Once, he claimed going on a date with Blaine was the riskiest thing he had ever done since becoming an adult. Now, this audition won the title. It was incredibly dangerous, in the fact nothing could step out of the plan. But Kurt felt confident. Everything was going smoothly so far, he could do this.

It was 3:06 when Kurt stepped into the theater, and instantly he felt like he was coming home.

* * *

“Blaine, may I talk to you for a moment?” Robert Anderson asked.

Blaine turned on his heel, eyebrows raised but mouth drawn in a frown. They were just about to exit a conference room, men and women all filing around him. Either wearing ties or heels with files clutched to their chests.

They had discussed adding on to one hotel and the money costs and construction plans. Robert invited Blaine in to get a feel of the company. Though the fact Blaine fell asleep was probably why his father was giving him this disappointed look.

“Yes?” Blaine asked, stuffing his hands into his pockets. At least he had worn the proper attire. Royal blue blazer and matching slacks, with a white collared shirt underneath all put together with a magenta tie.

Robert sighed, stepping around the large, oval meeting table. “I’ll get straight to the point, I suppose.” He leaned against the edge of the table, crossing his arms. “What did Cooper offer you?”

Blaine blinked. “Huh?”

“Come now, Blaine. While I was pleased to hear you were finally joining the family business, I know you wouldn’t be here by personal choice. So what did Cooper do?”

Blaine was actually speechless. Sure, he and his dad hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye. Especially after Blaine came out to his family when he was fifteen and declared he wanted to sing when he grew up. Both concepts only infuriated his father, immediately sending his son off to a private school to straighten his act.

The only ‘straightening’ Blaine did was focus his studies on business. In the meantime, Blaine began his overly-active sex life as soon as he could, knowing it would make his father enraged.

Blaine wasn’t like that anymore. He matured, and he supposed Robert didn’t see that yet.

“I’m here because I want to be, Dad,” Blaine said flatly. “I went to Cooper myself. _I_ asked to take responsibility here.”

“You don’t have to lie to me, son.”

“I’m not!” Blaine protested. “I’m taking my life seriously now, okay? I’m in a committed relationship with someone who I love very dearly. And now I have a job that is actually contributing to society.” _What more do you want?!_ is that he didn’t add.

Robert wore a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Ah, yes. Kurt’s his name, right?”

Blaine gritted his teeth. “Yes.”

“So you’re here to prove to him you’re a responsible adult?” Those last two words were edged with disbelief.

Blaine squared his shoulders, lifting his chin. “I’m doing this to prove it to myself.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you do care about the company?” Robert asked.

Blaine nodded stiffly.

Robert considered this, standing and walking towards Blaine. He stopped beside him, turning to his ear. “Then prove it to _me_.”

He patted Blaine’s arm before walking out of the room. Blaine continued staring into it, his throat bobbing and his muscles tight.

“Oh, and Blaine,” his father called behind him. “That means next time, no drooling on the paperwork.”

Blaine closed his eyes, waiting until Robert’s footsteps disappeared before opening them. Right as he was reminding himself to remain cool and not storm out like a drama queen, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

Kurt’s name shined on the screen, and like a flick of a switch Blaine’s body relaxed. He was smiling when he answered the call.

“Good afternoon, darling.”

* * *

A lanky man with greasy hair was finishing his solo when Kurt walked in the small theater.

He spotted the red-headed Brooke sitting in the audience next to what he presumed was the director. He was a thin man with longer, grey hair lined with streaks of white and black. The director wore a dark turtleneck and circular glasses. His fingers were pressed together as he concentrated on the lanky man’s performance.

Kurt inhaled to steady his pounding pulse. He walked down the aisle to Brooke, mouthing “Hi” to her when she waved at him excitedly before handing her the audition sheet, filled out with his name and other information.

“Yes, Thomas, thank you,” the director was saying now that the man on the stage was done. “You’re facial expressions are…” He squinted his eyes and twisted his mouth. “Impeccable,” he finally decided. “We’ll definitely be considering you as the role of Desmond.”

Thomas grinned before exiting stage left. The director leaned over and whispered into Brooke’s ear, “Cross him off the list, my god.”

Brooke motioned for Kurt to take the stage, and he quickly did. Smoothing down his shirt and hair, he hoped it was alright he was still wearing his diner uniform. It added to the raw people of New York look, right?

The director was peering at his paper. “Ah...yes. Hello there, young man. Welcome. My name is Bernard Cornfoot and this is Brooke. She will be Loretta when you audition the given scene,” he motioned to the girl, “but for now you may do your solo.” Bernard pressed his fingertips together, waiting. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Kurt, at first finding the name ‘Cornfoot’ funny, cleared his throat and straightened his spine. His shoulders were square and his eyes even. _I got this, I can do this._ “My name is Kurt Hummel,” he said, voice ringing across the theater. “And I’ll be auditioning for the role of Desmond Lockwood.”

Bernard smiled, nodding once. Brooke was beaming, shooting him a thumbs-up.

Kurt inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. Savoring the feeling of the stage, with the lights above and the red curtain behind. Knowing that he was facing an audience, an audience eager to hear him. Even if it was small now, he pictured it being a full house, every single attendee’s attention on him.

The solo was sung by the lead, Desmond the aristocrat. During his search to find the mysterious Loretta he went into downtown New York, and ran into a group of homeless men, asking for help. There’s a quarrel, but one of the ragged men challenges if he does not have any other luxuries to keep him happy other than some girl. Naturally, Desmond bursts into song, listing everything in his extravagant life he enjoys greatly, but always managing to come back to that indigo dress, and how the woman wearing it brings him more joy than any necessity in life.

A smile had tugged at Kurt’s mouth when he first read the lyrics, Desmond’s story sounding all too familiar.

The song was a realization of true happiness. Kurt suddenly imagined Blaine and Max in front row seats during his opening night, bearing looks of both pride and awe.

Opening his eyes, Kurt let that feeling wash over him. Worries about time and scheduling vanished, and he began to sing.

* * *

“What are you drawing?”

Max didn’t look up from his paper. Rather, he continued coloring the sky, which was only a blue stripe at the top of the picture. “It’s me, you, and Daddy.”

When Blaine picked up Max from his elementary school earlier, it was obvious the boy was confused on why his father wasn’t there instead. Blaine explained how Kurt was going to be trying out for a musical, and Max’s face lit with understandment.

“Oh, yeah!” he had replied. “He’s singing a song _all the time_. He says he wants to sing it on a stage.”

They headed to Blaine’s penthouse, the entire car ride filled with Max going on and on about his day in first grade. Blaine didn’t even have a chance to make a comment, for Max didn’t even take a breath. It was actually impressive, and a bit hard to keep track.

During the trip through the lobby and up the elevator, Max’s eyes were bugged and he kept going, “Whoa!” so loud that it echoed around the walls, causing other residents to stare and smile fondly. But the real kicker was when Blaine finally opened the door to his place, Max stepping one foot inside and being immediately greeted by an excited Lacy.

Squealing, Max went tumbling down from the border collie’s enthusiasm. She was sniffing his dinosaur print t-shirt and licking his face. Even though Blaine attempted to get his dog away so the boy could breathe, Max’s giggling and the way he was cooing, “Puppy!” indicated Lacy’s behavior was perfectly fine with him.

However, Blaine had never looked after a child alone before. He watched Kurt accomplish it like a natural, as if he always knew what Max needed or what he was about to do before he’d even done it. Perhaps it was parental instinct--something Blaine was certain he didn’t possess.

Still, he ushered Max in and offered cookies, which was evidently the correct answer.

They were now sitting on the living room floor, papers and crayons scattered about Blaine’s glass coffee table. Max was kneeling, leaning over and chewing his lip in concentration as he scribbled away, green lines of uneven stick people grouped together under a sunny sky.

Lacy had her head resting against Max’s leg, brown eyes shut as she slept peacefully beside him. Blaine glared at her when she had followed the boy around the room. Clearly his dog automatically became attached right away.

Blaine himself was seated in the most comfortable position possible with such little space for his legs. His red crayon drawing wasn’t as superior to Max’s--just a sketch of Lacy, which mostly included mismatched legs and lopsided ears.

Now Max had given the true meaning behind his drawing, which was supposedly him, Blaine, and Kurt. Blaine squinted and sort of saw it; black, flat hair on top of one stick person and tall, brown hair on the other. The middle stick person was smaller, also with brown hair and a huge, oversized smile.

“Why did you draw all three of us?” Blaine asked, genuinely curious.

Max looked up at him, his hands gesturing like they were telling the story before his voice did. “Because at school today we had to talk about our family! I said that it was me and my daddy, and then when my teacher Mrs. Perry asked if I had a mommy I said no, that my daddy had a boyfriend and _then--!_ ” Max gaped at Blaine, eyes huge. “Ryan said that _he_ had two daddies!”

“Whaaat?” Blaine asked, acting baffled.

“But Ryan was mean during recess,” Max finished, picking up the blue crayon again to complete important business.

Blaine just shook his head, grinning but forcing himself not to laugh at the _seriousness_ of what happened during first grade.

As Max became fully distracted in his work, Blaine chewed his lip and let his mind wander, traveling to a certain subject. Of course, it was a topic he had put much thought into. He had spent countless nights awake, going over it again and again. It was the perfect time to bring it up…

Lacy shifted her head so her snout was across Max’s lap. Max giggled, his free hand patting her fur. “I like Lacy,” he said.

“Hey, Max?” Blaine asked, dropping his own crayon and folding his hands over the table. “May I ask you a super important question?”

Excited, Max nodded, pressing his lips inward to tame a smile.

“Now, it’s top secret,” Blaine told him, slowly standing. “Not even your dad knows.”

Mouth hanging open, Max waited by bouncing on his bent knees and craning his head where Blaine had disappeared off to. When Blaine returned with his hands behind his back, Max closed his mouth again and watched impatiently.

Returning to his spot beside Max, Blaine tucked one leg under himself and let the other one stretch under the table. Finally, he revealed what was behind his back, and Max hurried forward to see it up close.

“A box?” Max furrowed his eyebrows.

Blaine chuckled. “Not just _any_ box.” He handed the palm-sized object to the boy. “Here, you can open it.”

Intrigued, Max held it in both hands, coming to realize it didn’t open like a birthday present. After figuring out how to lift the black, velvet lid, Max’s blue eyes widened at the item inside. “Oh! It’s a ring!”

Blaine grinned wider. “Yep.” His heart suddenly was beating too fast. Swallowing to regain normal breathing, Blaine shifted and brought his voice to a serious tone. “I want to give it to your dad.”

Max frowned. “Why?”

“Well…” Blaine draped an arm across the cushion of the couch they were next to, “I love your dad very much. You know that, right?”

Rolling his eyes at the word ‘love,’ Max nodded like a bobblehead.

“And...I also like hanging out with you,” Blaine added, sounding more hopeful. “I mean, you’re enjoying yourself, right?”

Max smiled, his cheeks round. “Yeah. You’re funny and nice.” Focusing on the ring again, Max looked at it from different angles as if to see what was so special about it. “My daddy doesn’t wear rings,” he stated.

“Well, this is a very special ring,” Blaine explained. “You see, the reason I am telling you about this is because…” He paused, taking a breath, bracing himself for whatever reaction the curious boy might have. “I want to marry him.”

It took a moment, but Max understood what Blaine meant. He tore his eyes away from the ring, mouth parted. “You’re gonna get _married?_ ”

“I don’t know,” Blaine said, a crooked smile growing on his lips. To say the words aloud felt amazing. True, if one would ask Blaine a year ago what his thoughts on marriage were, he would have possibly answered with an inappropriate sound or rude gesture.

Now, he had never been so sure on anything in his life. He loved Kurt so much it was almost painful. It was an aching need to be with him, to spend his days at his side and take him to bed every night. To wake up next to him every morning and have them experience every special moment life could bring them together.

“I was going to ask you first,” Blaine told Max. “If that was alright with you.”

Traditionally, Blaine knew he should be asking permission from Kurt’s father. But Max was a prominent role in Kurt’s life. His opinion on the marriage was the deal breaker, Blaine knew that. Which was probably why he was holding his breath as he waited for Max to speak.

The six-year-old was still analyzing the silver band, probably not understanding why such a small thing was considered a ‘top secret.’ “If you and Daddy get married,” said Max, “does that mean that you’ll be my daddy, too?”

“I-if you want.” Blaine’s voice cracked from emotion. Again, a completely different reaction than from a year ago if anyone would ask his notion of parenthood.

Max looked at Blaine, blue eyes so similar yet unique to his father’s. Teeth began showing as he grinned, then he nodded quickly. “Yeah!”

“So, you’re okay with that?” Blaine doubled checked, mostly because he could hardly believe it.

Max went, “Mhmm!” and looked at the ring once more before his attention went to his drawing. “Then we can be a family like here!” He pointed at it, showing Blaine.

If Blaine was about to cry now, there’s no telling how he’ll handle the proposal. “Yeah, you’re right.” He swallowed, blinking a couple times before getting his game face on. “Alright, Max, here’s the plan.”

The boy’s face went serious as he listened carefully.

“You can’t tell your dad no matter what. Remember, it’s a secret.”

“But--but you gotta give it to him!”

“And I will!” Of course he would, he had it all laid out. Kurt would come to the penthouse later, probably still ecstatic with how well he did at his audition. Blaine would offer dinner in a fashion like their first date over at Blaine’s home, meaning Kurt and Max would stay. Meaning at the perfect moment Blaine would go down on his knee and pop the question, having the proposal be sweet and intimate, involving the two men Kurt loved in his life.

Gradually, Blaine took the ring from Max, snapping the lid shut. “Promise me you’ll keep it a secret?” He held out a pinky finger.

Max giggled, hooking his tiny pinky around Blaine’s. “Promise.”

* * *

Kurt left the theater at 3:19, meaning he had one minute to get to the diner.

Bernard loved his performance, absolutely loved it, he had said. He applauded Kurt’s acting, praising him on how believable it felt. Even his singing was, “Magical. Unlike anything I’ve ever heard.” Kurt felt proud of his achievement, and smiled when he overheard Bernard whisper to Brooke, “Definitely keep him on the list.”

In fact, he was so overjoyed with the audition that he had forgotten he was on an incredibly tight schedule.

Which was why he was now labeled as an ‘I’m-late-to-something’ runner, hurrying past pedestrians on the crowded sidewalk as fast as he could. Thank god his work uniform was still on, perhaps Ronny wouldn’t be as pissed if he saw that.

A red stop light was the bane of his existence. Kurt half-considered just sprinting through the traffic, but he figured his manager would scream at him whether he was dead or not.

3:27. Kurt made it to the diner, pushing the doors open and breathing heavily. It wasn’t too busy, just a few booths occupied here and there. However, the waiters walking around all froze at his entrance, their eyes wide.

“I know I’m late, but I’m here,” Kurt told them breathlessly, striding across the restaurant and heading towards the kitchen.

Santana hurried around the bar, coming up to him and shaking her head. “Hummel, wait--”

Didn’t she realize that he needed to get back to work immediately? Kurt ignored her and pushed open the kitchen door, ready to grab his apron, but instead was met face-to-face with his manager.

Ronny’s arms were crossed over his chest. His beet-red flush reaching all the way to his brown hairline. And just because he was shorter than Kurt didn’t mean he wasn't terrifying.

“You’re late,” Ronny said to him, voice strangely even. “Again.”

Kurt tried to stand tall and not focus on the fact that the entire kitchen staff was silent and watching. “I was just--”

“No!” Ronny interrupted harshly, holding a palm up. “I’ve had enough of your excuses. You’re unreliable and a burden!”

“Ronny, listen--”

His manager jutted a finger at the door. “You’re fired! Now, get out!”

Everything stopped.

Kurt ceased breathing. His heart missed a beat. The world around him wasn’t important. Panic. That’s what he felt first. Stepping forward, he managed to speak. “Ronny, you can’t do this.”

Shaking his head fiercely, Ronny’s eyes glared up at him through those square glasses. “I mean it! I’ve had enough of your shit! Out! _Now!_ ”

The world was crashing. Burning and crumbling to the ground like an apocalypse. Kurt couldn't breathe.

Ronny knew about Max. He knew Kurt was a single parent. He knew that this job was the only thing keeping food on their table and shelter at night.

Kurt was so desperate he was begging, “Please, you can’t--”

He had been late before. Maybe Ronny was overreacting, maybe he just--

“ _NOW._ ”

Even the kitchen staff winced at the ferocity in their manager’s voice. Kurt was helpless, unable to do anything to save himself. His throat became thick and his vision blurry.

His body felt numb, a striking contrast to how happy he was not five minutes ago.

Kurt had no choice but to turn around and leave.

* * *

Blaine twirled around, arms out on either side of him. “How do I look?”

Max studied him up and down from his spot cross-legged on the couch, taking in the tailored maroon suit and black bowtie. “You look fancy.”

Blaine could live with that. It was better than the seven “I dunno’s” he had received from earlier outfits.

Kurt should be here in a couple hours. They still had plenty of time to arrange the flowers, candles, and Blaine’s finest china on the dining table. Spaghetti was still to be made (a throwback to their first dinner date, after all) and Blaine wanted to go over his proposal speech once again. They had time, everything was going to be perfect.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

The butterflies in Blaine’s chest transformed into confusion. Both him and Max snapped their heads at the sound, which Lacy was trotting to with her tail wagging. Did Tina need something? Usually she would text him.

Blaine straightened his suit jacket and walked towards the door, gently nudging Lacy away so he could grab the handle and pull it open without bumping her. He expected to be asking his assistant, “What?” instead of seeing the sight of his boyfriend in tears.

“Kurt?” Blaine asked in shock.

Kurt was standing there in his work clothes, eyes brimmed red and his chin wrinkled. Blotches of flush were at his cheeks, and his chestnut coif had seen better days. The worst part was that the tears on his face were simply tracks, but he was still trembling.

“I…” Kurt began, voice breaking. He gulped, not looking at Blaine.

“Baby, what happened?” Blaine instinctively extended his hands, reaching to sooth Kurt. To hold or comfort him in any way.

Instead, Kurt retracted, wrapping his arms around himself. Like how he did when he first met Blaine, when he was closed off and guarded.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Kurt whispered, eyes off to the side.

Max’s footsteps were pattering behind Blaine. “Daddy? Are you crying?”

Kurt sniffed and lifted his jaw, wiping his cheeks hastily. “N-no, honey. We just need to go home now, that’s it.”

“Sweetheart--” Blaine began, Max returning with his backpack over his shoulders and a worried expression on his face. “Do you need anything? Would you want to stay--?”

Shaking his head firmly, Kurt replied, “No. That’s fine.”

Blaine’s chest felt heavy. Something wasn’t right, this entire evening just took a one-eighty spin and he didn’t even know why. “At least have Harold drive you,” he offered, seeing how Kurt was watching Max and petting his hair, still not looking at Blaine.

Kurt nodded weakly, flitting a glance at him and giving a wavering smile. “Thank you.”

There were no “I love you’s” or “goodbye’s.” Blaine was helpless to watch the two turn and go, Kurt’s hand tight around Max’s, disappearing out the elevator.

Leaving Blaine alone at the doorway, the mood contrasting to the anticipation before. Now all he was left with was his hollow chest, feeling utterly lost **.**


	16. Chapter 16

_“I want a baby,” Liam told him, voice airy with the notion._

_Kurt dropped his magazine--the one he was reading as his husband watched some travel show while leaning against Kurt’s side. A commercial had just come on their television, advertising diapers. There had been smiling babies waddling around and plopping to the floor. No wonder his husband brought up the topic._

_Again._

_“Liam--”_

_“I know what you’re going to say,” Liam said, sitting up to look Kurt properly. Their loveseat was small, fitting the two comfortably. “But hear me out first.”_

_Their apartment together was cozy, looking exactly like Kurt had always pictured his first place in New York would be. It was also one bedroom, and what Liam was suggesting couldn’t accommodate that._

_Liam pried one of Kurt’s hands off his magazine, squeezing it in his own. “You’re going to say a baby would be too time consuming and expensive. That we’re too young and don’t have the money.”_

_“It is another human life, Liam,” Kurt pointed out. “And besides, our careers aren’t designed to work around babysitting.”_

_“Yes, but,” Liam continued, “you’re forgetting one important aspect.”_

_“And what’s that?”_

_Liam grinned, his grey eyes practically sparkling. “You want to perform. And I want to write.”_

_“Yes…”_

_“Don’t you see? Kurt, I can still write at home and take care of our child. Everything will work out perfectly. You’ll be able to kick ass on Broadway, and me and the little tyke will relax at home.”_

_Kurt stuttered, shaking his head. “You’re saying you want to be a stay-at-home dad?”_

_“If it means I’ll be able to raise a family with my true love,” Liam brought his hand up and kissed his knuckles, “then yes.” A corner of his mouth quirked higher than the other. “I want a baby so bad, Kurt.”_

_What Kurt didn’t admit was he that he didn’t feel ready. Picturing himself at such a young age, just stepping foot outside college and into the adult world with a baby on board was terrifying. He wanted to say it, and he should say it now. But his husband was waiting for an answer, his expression so open and vulnerable, Kurt knew it would shatter the moment he said no._

_There were no more excuses. It was a way for both of them to be happy…_

_Kurt swallowed, nodding and squeezing Liam’s hand back. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”_

* * *

The memory stuck clearly in Kurt’s mind.

He remembered everything the moment he caught sight of a photo of Max on the refrigerator. His son was only a baby--wearing a blue onesie and white cap, his face and fists scrunched up as he slept inside his crib. It was one of the few earlier pictures of him Kurt had out on display instead of hidden deep down in storage boxes.

Mostly because Max wasn’t in the arms of his ex-husband.

The Thursday was ending with Max disappearing off to his room like how he always did when he and Kurt came home. It was their routine; Kurt would begin to make supper and Max would play with his toys until it was ready.

Except this time Kurt was standing frozen, his arms so tight around himself they were beginning to ache. He faced the refrigerator of photographs and artwork, a mural of he and Max’s life together, a life forced to be started from scratch.

_Everything will work out perfectly._

A big, fat lie. Nothing worked out perfectly. Everything had plummeted to the bottom, abandoning him with no job, no source of money.

They needed food. They needed clothes. The bills on the table needed to be paid, or otherwise they would be given an eviction notice, and then they’d be kicked out on the street.

 _Oh, god._ Kurt’s heart suddenly clenched, having him choke. _No, I can’t have a panic attack. Not now, not now, not now…_

Turning, he leaned his back against the fridge, attempting to regain his breathing. He hadn’t changed from his black and red uniform. Max was expecting him to be cooking supper, not sliding down to sit on the tiled floor, eyes wide and limbs shaking.

Bringing his knees to his chest, Kurt tried to order himself to get it together. To be strong for his son, who needed an anchor like Kurt to remain calm. He couldn’t burst into tears, he couldn’t have a breakdown just because he was _fired…_

His vision began swimming. Kurt’s composure crumpled as he buried his face in his knees, wrapping his arms around his legs, trying to become smaller, to fold up and disappear.

This wasn’t happening.

This was a nightmare.

Kurt felt sick. What was he going to do now? He needed to find another job, but where? Would the hours fit around his schedule of being a father? Would it be close enough to Max’s school in order to get him at the end of the day? What if it’s not? What if he couldn’t find one fast enough to pay the rent? Their landlord was a nice man, but strict by his rules. Where would they live?

The automatic thought was Blaine. The empty void eating Kurt’s chest suddenly had a spark of hope, but it was quickly diminished. Kurt couldn’t ask that of him. What would that make him? A weak, helpless, gold digger? Some unemployed guy who conveniently had a rich boyfriend? Tabloids wrote articles about those people all the time. Kurt couldn’t end up like one of them.

Then he and Max could be homeless, living in cardboard boxes…

Kurt let out a sob, covering his eyes with his hand. How could he be so selfish? Putting his own desires before his actual responsibilities. If he would have never went to that audition, they wouldn’t be here. Dangling at the edge of a precipice, their grip holding thin.

“Daddy?”

Kurt jumped, clutching his chest from his son’s small and slightly timid voice. He hadn’t heard Max enter the kitchen, yet there he was, standing a few feet from Kurt with eyes round and worried, a piece of paper held to his chest.

Inhaling deeply, trying to appear put together, Kurt wiped his cheeks and said, “What?” in a croaky voice, hoping it didn’t sound annoyed or exhausted. He probably looked like a mess, his eyes wet and red and him sitting there all curled up.

Max stepped forward, hesitating. “Are...are you crying again?”

A headache was growing, making Kurt squeeze his eyes shut. “No, Max. I’m fine.” A big, fat lie. Better than admitting the truth.

The horrible, terrible truth on how greatly he had fucked up.

Max gulped, saying in his small voice again, “Well...M-Michael at school said--”

“I don’t _CARE!_ ” Kurt yelled, loud and echoing around the apartment. It was an outburst, energy taken out by splaying a hand and gritting his teeth.

A beat. The room was dead silent. Kurt blinked, his mind settling back in place. It took a moment to realize what he just did. He had never shouted at his son like that before.

Oh, no.

_Max--_

The six-year-old was frozen, staring wide-eyed in shock at his father. His arms and legs were locked, and his lip started to tremble like he was scared. He was scared...because of Kurt…

“Oh, Max--” Kurt let his legs fall, and he quickly reached for Max. “Honey, I’m--I didn’t mean to--” His own voice was cracking, wobbling towards more tears. He pulled Max in, pressing him into a hug. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

His arms enveloped the boy, holding him tight. His lips buried in Max’s brown hair and his eyes closed. Kurt couldn’t lose Max, couldn’t bear to live a second knowing his son wasn’t safe and happy.

At least his pulse was returning to normal. Kurt realized this right as Max made a muffled sound against his shoulder, indicating he was being squished. Kurt released him, still keeping contact. Smoothing his hair and swiping a thumb across his cheek. Rubbing his arms and leveling out his shirt.

“I’m sorry. Daddy’s just had a rough day,” Kurt told him gently.

“Was Ronny mean again?” Max asked.

Kurt huffed out a laugh. _Mean_ wasn’t the best adjective. “Yes, he was.”

Max frowned, blinking and looking down at the paper he was holding. It became wrinkled during the hug--another sign Kurt may have held on too tight. “I was gonna give this to you,” Max said quietly.

“What is it, sweetie?” Kurt asked, sniffing once before holding out a hand.

Max slowly presented it to him. It was a worksheet he must have gotten from school--his name written shakily in pencil at the top next to printed bubble letters that spelled the word, ‘ _DAD._ ’

“We--we talked about our family at school today,” Max said, voice still small and quiet. He was coming closer to Kurt though, pointing at the bubble letters. “I only have a daddy so Mrs. Perry only gave me one paper.”

Kurt nodded, eyes traveling to the questions below. It was a fill-in-the-blank type of worksheet, and since Max had every space filled out (in the best spelling a first grader could possess), he received a gold star sticker at the top.

_My Dad’s name is: Kurt._

_He is 28 years old. He has brown hair and Blue eyes._

_His favorite food is: cheescak. His favorite color is: every color!._

_My Dad is good at: Singng._

What caused Kurt’s breath to hitch was the next part.

_What I love most about my Dad is: he is really strong._

“Strong?” Kurt asked, shaking his head out of confusion. Max could have written that Kurt read bedtime stories in different voices or that he always let Max win when they wrestled. Why was it this answer that had Kurt furrow his eyebrows?

“Because,” Max replied simply, “you’re really strong.” He brought up his arms, ‘flexing’ to prove his point. “Like Captain America.”

Kurt lowered the paper. “Well, I wish I had his muscles.”

“ _No_ ,” Max sighed dramatically, taking the paper and pointing to an area at the bottom. “Captain America protects people, too.”

Depicted in crayon was Max’s artistic style of Kurt, hair drawn high on his head. It had him tall and smiling widely, holding the hand of what Kurt presumed was a figure of Max.

But what had Kurt choking back another sob was what Max had sketched on Kurt. In his stick person’s hand, colored in red, blue, and an uneven star in the center, was Captain America’s shield.

Max was saying Kurt was the same as his favorite superhero.

“Do you like it?” Max asked.

Kurt bit down on his lip, a smile wobbling from being overwhelmed with emotions. “I love it, Maxie.” He brought his son in for another hug. A gentler one, rubbing his back and kissing his temple.

It was true, he had defended Max during the divorce and when Liam tried to win them back. He cared for him and made sure he had everything a child needed. Even when he was first learning to be a parent all by himself, he was strong for his boy.

And he’ll be strong now.

Kurt knew deep down asking for help wasn’t a sign of weakness, not when it meant caring for Max. But this situation was so much grander than paying for a plane ticket or hospital bill.

Feeling Max’s little arms hug him back, Kurt let out an exhale, releasing the last bit of tension. He knew what he needed to do.

And that was to call Blaine.

* * *

_Kurt barely slept during the first week._

_Max was constantly awake during the night, crying his lungs out. Kurt tried to rock him, to calm him down. Yet the baby’s wails rang across the apartment walls, showing no means of stopping._

_Already Kurt had gotten complaints from neighbors, saying that Max was nuisance and he needed to control his baby’s crying. Kurt really did try, but he was still struggling on this single-parent life._

_Groaning, Kurt cradled Max closer, closing his eyes for a second before opening them, gazing around their new home. It was small, less space than the one he and Liam had before. The walls were bare and the furniture was drab. They wouldn’t be here for long, Kurt reminded himself. He would save up money from his job as a waiter and they could live somewhere nicer._

_At least it was away from his ex-husband._

_Max continued sobbing into his shoulder, face red and nose dribbling snot. Kurt kissed the top of his bunny-soft hair, forcing away the terrors of what Liam had done to them._

_“It’s the dead of night,” Kurt told his son. “Won’t you please go to sleep?”_

_In response, Max shrieked louder._

_Sighing, Kurt ceased pacing and adjusted him in his arms, eyes heavy and limbs aching. He did have enough strength to try one last attempt._

_“Blackbird singing in the dead of night…” Kurt sang gently. “Take these broken wings and learn to fly…”_

_Almost instantly, Max stopped crying. He sniffed and made little gasping noises, but mostly waiting to hear Kurt’s voice again._

_“All your life…” Kurt continued, smiling in relief against Max’s hair. “You were only waiting for this moment to arise…”_

_He promised he’ll protect his baby boy._

_Even in this ratty, old apartment._

* * *

Blaine dropped everything the moment Kurt uttered, “I got fired today” over the phone, rushing to his apartment as soon as possible,

At least he had changed out of his suit, now only wearing sweatpants and a jacket. The proposal dinner was forgotten, for all Blaine wanted now was to make sure his boyfriend was okay, and the phone call revealed the worst. He waited outside ‘501,’ ready when Kurt opened the door to bring him into an embrace, holding him in his arms.

Kurt was out of his work uniform, now barefoot in plaid pajama pants and a cotton white shirt. He clutched on to Blaine, thanking him over and over for coming as he emptied the last of his tears onto Blaine’s shoulder.

It was late, Max was already in bed. Blaine continued holding his boyfriend even after they laid together on the ungodly thin pull-out couch mattress. Kurt quieted down after some time, and Blaine ran his fingers through his hair as comfort.

“I’m sorry about your shirt,” Kurt mumbled, playing with the wet fabric.

“I don’t mind,” Blaine told him, smiling gently.

He had seen Kurt cry out of anger and cry out of gratitude. But to shed tears from panic or fright, Blaine knew that was a rare occasion, and usually involved fear for Max’s safety.

“I was j-just a few minutes late,” Kurt whispered to him, inches from his face but not looking at him. “But I guess that was the last straw for Ronny.”

Blaine frowned a little as he kept rubbing Kurt’s back. “Wait...late because of your audition?”

Kurt nodded.

Suddenly, Blaine’s chest felt heavy. A great, dreadful, sinking sensation. He tensed, eyes growing wide. “Kurt--”

“What sucks is I don’t even know if I m-m-made it,” Kurt tried to joke, his laughter broken.

“I’m so sorry, Kurt,” Blaine said, mouth parted in horror. “It’s my fault. God, I’m so--”

“Your fault?” Kurt’s confusion was genuine.

Blaine swallowed. God, now _he_ felt like the one to be crying. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to try out. It was me who encouraged you, and I should have realized what would’ve happened...god--”

“Blaine,” Kurt cut in, shaking his head a little. “This isn’t your fault. _I_ picked up the script. _I_ walked into that theater and onto that stage. It’s not like you forced me to do anything.”

“I should have ran after you when you came to pick up Max earlier. I shouldn’t have--”

“Blaine. It’s alright, trust me.”

Still, Blaine couldn’t help but feel guilty. Kurt had reminded him multiple times that it was simply impossible for him to perform again. Yet Blaine had to be hopeful, to make sure he kept his dream alive.

There was a harsh lump in his throat, all of the sudden remembering how fifteen-year-old Blaine’s dreams of singing were crushed by reality as well.

“I need to get another job,” Kurt said now, sniffing. His nose was pink, as were his cheeks. His hands were either fisted in the fabric of Blaine’s shirt or hiding underneath his pillow.

“Do you…?” Blaine hesitated.

Kurt seemed to have read his mind, for he shook his head sadly. “Not even the Special Occasions Jar can help me now.” He laughed weakly again.

The room settled in silence, just the noises of traffic outside and their breathing keeping them company. Blaine chewed his lip, instinct telling him to jump in and be Kurt’s anchor. But would Kurt agree? Would he call it charity, and be determined to make ends meet on his own? They were a team, Blaine couldn’t just let him suffer alone. Jesus, why did such a shitty apartment come with so much work--?

Then, it hit him.

Like turning on a switch, illuminating a beam of hope among a pit of darkness, the idea sprung upon Blaine. He quickly placed a hand on Kurt’s neck, cupping his jaw and having him meet his eyes with minor confusion.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, “why don’t you move in with me?”

Kurt’s lips parted, and while it was certain he was surprised and _right there_ on saying yes, he started shaking his head. “Blaine, no...I couldn’t have you--”

“Why not? We’re dating, we’re in love. Technically it won’t be frowned upon.” He smiled a bit, and kissed Kurt’s nose lightly. “I’m not just going to abandon you and Max.”

Something shifted on Kurt’s face. Like the word _abandon_ recalled a past memory. Right as Blaine was going to ask, Kurt’s breath hitched. “You wanna move in together?” he asked quietly.

“Only if you want to,” Blaine said, sliding one of his hands to find Kurt’s, gently releasing its iron grasp on his shirt so they could intertwine. “I won’t force you to do something you don’t want.”

Blaine didn’t know what he had said, but there was that shift again. However, it was soon replaced with corners of Kurt’s mouth being lifted, and tears brimming his brilliant blue eyes again. “Oh, Blaine…” He threw an arm around him, hugging him close. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” he said, muffled into his shoulder. “God, I don’t deserve you.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around,” Blaine mumbled back, grinning as well.

Kurt was nodding, letting out a squeaky laugh. “Yes. Yes, I would love to live together.” He shook in Blaine’s arms, although Blaine knew this time that these tears were happy ones.

* * *

_“Daddy?” Max asked once Kurt closed that night’s bedtime story. “Do I have a mommy?”_

_Kurt hesitated, taken aback by the random question. Sure, the book was about a mother bear who loved her baby cub, but that wasn’t a guarantee for such difficult topics._

_Rain fell outside, the pellets hitting the bedroom’s window. Max had just gotten a big-boy bed, and the headboard rested against the wall of said window. He was waiting patiently for his father to answer, eyes big with curiosity. Kurt shifted uncomfortably on the edge of his bed, not sure where to begin._

_His son was three now, it was natural for him to wonder._

_“Why do you ask?” Kurt decided to begin with._

_“‘Cause at preschool,” Max replied, “everybody’s gots a mommy.”_

_“Everybody?”_

_“Weeeeeelllll....not Joel. Joel lives with his gramma and grampa.”_

_“Ah,” Kurt nodded seriously. At least Max grew up in the diverse world of New York, and not the sheltered life of Ohio._

_His son was still staring at him, so Kurt had to continue. “Well, everyone’s family is different. Some people have one mommy and some have one daddy and some have both a mommy and a daddy...and sometimes there’s two mommies and sometimes there’s two daddies. ” There. An honest answer._

_“Two daddies?”_

_“Yep. Some people marry boys and some marry girls.”_

_Max’s mouth formed into an ‘O’ shape. “A boy marrying a boy?”_

_Kurt laughed, despite himself. “Yes, that is a thing. Some people like boys and some people like girls and some people like both.”_

_Perhaps Kurt shouldn’t reveal his sexuality tonight. After all, Max was pretty determined that Rachel and him were in love. At least, according to Santana, that is._

_“So I only got one daddy?” Max asked._

_“_ Have _one daddy, and...yes.” A heavy truth. Then again, Kurt hated lying to Max. Tales about Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy were fine, but this was a subject Kurt had been trying to convince himself for years._

_He should tell Max about Liam, on how he had another father at a time. Max deserved to know, but he was still young. How would he react to knowing the man who was his dad and who Kurt used to love abandoned them?_

Not now, _Kurt decided, telling Max goodnight and pressing a kiss to his forehead. Another time he’ll deal with the demons Liam brought upon them, but not tonight._

* * *

The fact is, Blaine _babbles_ during sex.

It’s adorable, to the point where Kurt was tempted to burst into giggles. Which, of course, would be inappropriate given the situation.

They had retired into Blaine’s master bedroom after their long day of loading in boxes and suitcases, the skyline twinkling outside the large windows. While Kurt was content with simply slipping into his pajamas and crawling under Blaine’s impossibly comfortable covers, his boyfriend had other plans--and made Kurt know this by attaching his lips to his neck the moment Kurt shut the door.

Moving in wasn’t difficult, really. Kurt expected his heart to grow heavy when all his and Max’s belongings were being packed, when instead it lifted, filling with the idea of a fresh beginning. No more drafty nights, no more noisy neighbors, and no more cramped spaces.

It had been more of a challenge for Max. After Kurt announced the news that they would be leaving the apartment and living with Blaine now, Max became distraught, not wanting to part from his toys. Kurt had to jump in and explain that they weren’t leaving _everything_ behind, however Max then worried over getting a new bed.

Blaine giving the idea of Lacy getting to sleep in Max’s new bed was the selling point. While Kurt wasn’t quite certain, Max was thrilled.

Now, once teeth were brushed and bedtime stories were read, Max resided in a renovated guest bedroom down the hall, tucked in his queen-sized bed with Lacy curled up at his side. They hadn’t unpacked all their belongings yet, but at least Max had his stuffed Dalmatian Kenny and Captain America shield to snuggle through the night.

“ _God--fuck_ , Kurt...so good... _oh god_ ,” Blaine was saying at this time, mouth parted and hot puffs of air breathing onto Kurt’s face. “You’re so amazing-- _shit_ \--god, I love you.”

Kurt bit on the inside of his cheek, fighting back an adoring grin. Honestly, he should be focused on how his legs were hooked over Blaine’s shoulders and the mattress moved under him with every thrust. How his hands were fisted in the deep blue comforter, how he felt like his body was squirming with heat every time Blaine’s cock rocked into him.

Yes, he absolutely loved Blaine like this. Unraveled and wrecked, unable to keep logical sentences in check. It was such a contrast to the charismatic charm Blaine had anywhere else, and significantly sexier.

“ _Blaine_ ,” Kurt groaned, bending when Blaine hit _that_ spot. Pre-come leaked onto his belly, smearing on his skin as Blaine snapped his hips harder, his moans gut-deep above him.

“Holy _shit_ , Kurt--I-- _fuck_ \--” Blaine breathed out, ducking his head, his arms trembling on either side of Kurt. “You’re so-- _hot_ and--loveyousomuch, baby.” He squeezed his eyes shut, releasing another cut-off gasp.

At that moment, Kurt was glad Blaine couldn’t see his giddy smile from that rambling.

His toes curled, the coil of heat so unbearably close to release. Kurt tried to warn Blaine in the midst of the slapping of skin and their heavy breathing, even while Blaine was mumbling nonsense still. He opened his mouth, ready to give the word, but then froze.

No, had he really heard…?

“Damn-- _mmm_ \--”

“Blaine.”

“God, yeah.”

“Blaine, seriously.” Kurt placed his palm against Blaine’s chest, eyes wide. “Stop for a sec.”

His boyfriend’s features went from lust to confusion as his hips slowed to a halt. They both stared at each other, chests heaving, but they were silent.

Until, the faintest of voices said, “Daddy?”

Kurt groaned (out of frustration this time) and dropped his head on the pillow. “Oh, no.”

Blaine actually smiled, eyes hooded but mouth crooked. “Hey, it’s okay.”

“ _No_. Just...maybe he’ll stop, just--”

“Daaaaaaddy?”

Kurt slapped a hand over his face. And he was _right there_ on an earth-shattering orgasm.

Blaine chuckled, kissing the back of the hand. “I can check on him, if you want.”

“No, you don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

Kurt pouted.

Blaine took that as an agreement, dropping Kurt’s legs and gently eased out of him, tossing out the condom before finding his boxers on the floor. Kurt watched him, peeking through his fingers as he remained sprawled out on the mattress. His dick grew soft against his stomach, the mood officially ruined.

Giving him a wink by the door, Blaine grinned. “Be right back, sweetheart.”

The door clicked shut behind him. Kurt sighed, running a hand through his mussed hair before noticing how the sweat on his naked skin chilled with exposure. He glared at the ceiling, stubborn with the fact that he now had to get up and find his clothes.

Cursing under his breath, Kurt kicked the blue comforter to the far end of the bed and hauled himself up.

 _Is this what true domesticity is?_ he thought, smirking. _Kids interrupting sex?_

On his way to Blaine’s adjoined bathroom, Kurt found pajamas and clean underwear in his personal dresser drawer. Blaine promised he would buy Kurt his own dresser, but Kurt was fine with sharing.

Flicking on the bathroom lights, Kurt took time to clean himself up. Pajamas were slipped on, face was washed, hair was attempted to look more civil. Kurt did catch those red marks on his collarbone, and also caught himself smiling and blushing in the mirror.

A nearby knock, and Kurt strode back out into the bedroom, stopping when he saw the sight at the doorway.

“We’ve got a problem,” Blaine informed him, his smile both sympathetic and a bit amused. He stood barefoot, only in his black boxers with the grey waistband hugging his slender hips. Lacy was stationed by his strong calves, nose tilted up and her ears perked. While Kurt enjoyed this image just as it was, what made his heart grow fond was what Blaine had in his arms.

Max’s arms looped around Blaine’s neck, legs bracketing his torso. He was obviously exhausted, his fleece pajamas ruffled and bags under his eyes prominent. Perhaps that was why his lip was stuck out in a pout, and his forehead rested against Blaine’s temple.

Shoulders relaxing, Kurt went over to them, brushing Max’s hair. “What’s the situation?” he asked Blaine in a teasing commander voice.

“Don’t wanna go to sleep,” Max told him, yawning and leaning farther against Blaine. “My room is super big, Daddy. It smells funny.”  

Blaine shrugged, smiling a little at Kurt. “New bed?” he suggested.

Of course. Kurt knew fully well about his son’s adjustment to a different night time routine. “New house, too,” he whispered to Blaine.

“Can I sleep with you?” Max asked, voice slightly whiney. He released one of his arms towards his dad, Kurt caught his hand before he tumbled out of Blaine’s arms.

Hesitating, Kurt glanced at his boyfriend. He should apologize for this, or explain how those parenting books advised against it.

Blaine just grinned, patting Max’s back. “That sounds like a perfect idea.”

Hearing this, Max squirmed free of Blaine’s hold and hurried to the king-sized bed, climbing on with Lacy following close behind. Kurt gave Blaine a look, but Blaine just grabbed his hand and pecked his lips.

“I don’t mind,” he said, grin broadening.

Max claimed the dead center his area, his head sinking down in the multiple fluffy pillows. “Sing the song, Daddy?” he asked once Kurt had settled on the right side of the bed.

Kurt glanced across, where Blaine was propped on his side and waiting as well. He didn’t seemed fazed by the reality of their alone time being cut short. Actually, he was staring at Kurt with eased admiration, like this moment right now was the best part of their entire day.

Having to answer, Kurt told Max. “Honey, maybe another time.”

“But--” Max snapped his head at Blaine. “Blaine!”

Blaine threw up a hand, equally baffled. “I know!”

“Daddy, please,” Max said to Kurt, blinking his eyes so they were big and pleading, like a puppy-dog. “Pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

“Yeah, Kurt, pretty please?” Blaine asked, now joining Max with the puppy-eyes.

Kurt scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Blaine. It’s just _Blackbird_. You’ve heard it before.”

“Daddy sings it to me since _forever!_ ” Max told Blaine.

“Forever?”

“Since he was a baby,” Kurt corrected, amused by his two boys’ astonishment.

“Aw, that’s cute,” Blaine cooed.

“Well, it was like a lullaby. He wouldn’t stop crying until I sang it,” Kurt mumbled, picking at one of his pillow’s corners.

“But I’m tired and…” Max yawned loudly. “I wanna…” His eyelids grew heavy.

“Kurt, if you love us, you’ll sing it,” Blaine stated.

Defeated by unfair majority, Kurt moved to his stomach and braced up to his elbows, suggesting that the two get comfortable because he wasn’t going to sing it twice.

The master bedroom was silent, city life far below bustling on mute, Kurt’s song now the only melody filling the air. He sang it softly, petting Max’s hair soothingly, avoiding Blaine’s stare so he wouldn’t crack a smile.

Lacy made a content whine on the floor at the foot of the bed, deciding to sleep as well. Blaine stayed on his side, facing Kurt and Max. His lips still curled peacefully, and his hazel eyes watching Kurt until they too drifted off to sleep.

Max laid stretched like a starfish on his back, his breathing slowing and his eyes closing as well. He yawned once more near the end of the lullaby, and just when Kurt thought he was fast asleep, his eyes blinked open.

“Love you, Daddy,” he said to Kurt, voice slurred with drowsiness.

“Love you, too, Maxie. Now, goodnight,” Kurt whispered.

“Blaine loves you, too.” Max’s eyelids threatened to pull him back to slumber. “He...he needs to give you…” He yawned again. “Box.”

“Okay, Maxie.” Kurt kissed his forehead, shuffling comfortably on the cloud-like mattress. “Go to sleep, okay?”

“M’kay.”

Kurt’s own body was growing heavy. He should be upset that he and Blaine didn’t get to celebrate their first night living together, but with the sight he drifted off to--Blaine’s cheek squished into the pillow, dark curls sprung free from their gel, his gorgeous body curved at a profile. Max next to him, mouth hanging open and hands resting in fists, his features soft and precious--he figured this might be better than anything planned before.

They were safe. They were living with someone who loved them and Kurt loved deeply in return. He and Blaine took a huge step in their relationship with this move, and while Kurt was glad deep down to finally be free of that crappy apartment and the burdens it brought him, he needed Blaine to know that he could be living in a shack and Kurt would happily live with him.

Still, this huge bed wasn’t anything to complain about.

The hectic day--or more like hectic week--slowed to a standstill. Unconsciousness enveloped Kurt, allowing him to sleep peacefully next to the two men who owned his heart.

Everything wasn’t perfect yet. It was inching there. Other issues needed to be resolved--the job, the scheduling, that play for crying out loud. ‘ _Perfect_ ’ was a constant and patient patching of pieces, the pace quickened with help, even if the knowledge of knowing if the goal would ever be reached was undetermined.

But Kurt didn’t need perfect.

He just needed what was right here, both sleeping soundly beside him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU THANK YOU for being so patient! I know, I picked the worst cliffhanger to update on! But again, thanks for the patience :)  
> Also...to all those who watched episode 6x08...*squee!*


	17. Chapter 17

They created their own routine.

Blaine tried to learn different ways to make breakfast in the morning, studying cookbooks on how to cook scrambled eggs or blueberry pancakes. Always, Kurt and Max would wait at the dining table in their pajamas, until Blaine would either start pulling his hair or set off the smoke alarm. Max would burst into giggles, and Kurt would quickly save the day.

It ended with them eating cereal, Kurt kissing a defeated Blaine on the cheek and assuring him that he’ll get better with practice.

Max liked being dropped off at school in the sleek private car. He told Kurt, bouncing on the car’s seat with excitement, that it made him the coolest kid in his class. Harold loved Max, of course. He discussed topics with the boy as he would with Blaine or Kurt or any other passenger. Max was more than enthusiastic, doing most of the talking and only allowing pauses to catch his breath.

Four nights after moving in with Blaine, Kurt received a phone call during the afternoon as he was job searching on the Internet. When he answered, he was greeted by the unmistakable voice of Brooke, the redheaded girl working on the production of _The Indigo Lover_. She was bubbly and breathless, to the point Kurt almost missed what she said.

“I am pleased to inform you that...you got the lead! Congratulations, you’re our Desmond!”

Blaine picked up Max after he finished with work, as was the routine. However, that day he walked through the door and was met with Kurt practically pouncing on him, overjoyed and teary-eyed with the announcement.

Later, they had drinks and celebration sex, making sure Max was dead asleep this time.

Kurt adjusted to this new life. It was odd, at first, considering he had been mostly independent these last few years. Years of being a waiter and a single father and then suddenly becoming a lead role in an actual production and having a helping hand with Max. After the waves of adaption settled, he actually felt at ease.

“Work is a bore without you,” Rachel told him, pouring herself a glass of wine. “Really. I might as well quit.”

Kurt lowered his own glass away from his lips. “Rach, don’t say that.”

He was invited over to her and Santana’s shared apartment for a good, old-fashioned get-together. It was bigger than his old apartment, including two bedrooms, plenty of colorful blankets and throw pillows, a spacious living room, and polka-dotted curtains. Santana was gone working the late shift, and Rachel finally had a night off from rehearsing for _Funny Girl_.

She nodded, though, walking out the kitchen and to the living room’s lime green couch. “I’m serious. I’m barely there anyway, and I’ve got this show taking up all my time.” Plopping down, she waited until Kurt took a seat next to her before continuing, “It’s not like Ronny’s gonna miss me. At least he can brag that he used to employ the famous Broadway sensation Rachel Berry.” She flourished a hand dramatically in the air, beaming a winning smile.

Kurt laughed. God, he missed Rachel. Best friend in high school and through college, and not to mention a shoulder to cry on during the divorce. It was Rachel who came over to help figure out parenting, who babysat Max whenever Kurt needed those extra shifts. And after all these years, she still hadn’t lost her spark.

“Anywaaay,” she said, crossing her legs under herself. She wore a comfy-looking purple sweater and yoga pants, her dark brown hair tied messily in a bun. “How’s you and Blaine?” With a cheesy wink, she nudged his arm.

Kurt gave her a look, failing to fight back a smile. “It’s going _well_ , if you want to know. I mean, I thought the whole...you know, moving-in business would be such a hassle, but it’s actually going pretty smoothly.” He took a sip of his beverage.

Rachel placed a hand over her chest. “Aww, that’s great! You know, we would’ve had you and Max live with us if you needed, but his place sounds like a _dream_.”

“It is pretty nice.”

“ _He_ sounds like a dream,” Rachel gushed, as if they were discussing a Disney prince. “God, Kurt. How did you get so lucky?”

Honestly, Kurt asked himself that everyday. Blaine was attentive and caring, loving Kurt with every ounce of his heart and being nothing less than a friend to Max. The image of what Kurt walked in on yesterday stuck clear in his mind--Blaine sprawled on the penthouse’s living room floor, Max’s Nerf gun held loosely in his hand and accepting defeat as Max, bearing his Captain America shield, declared victory over the Winter Soldier.

Instead of getting too caught up in his reminiscing, Kurt shrugged and told her, “I managed to be carrying too much water the day he bumped into me?”

Rachel threw her head back and laughed, drinking more of her wine before going on the subject of Broadway. Kurt eventually slipped in during the rant about her god-awful understudy that he too had nabbed a role in an up-and-coming off-off Broadway production. Gasping, Rachel squealed and flailed her hands, congratulating him before diving right in on the drama of being a lead role, including the terror of dealing with an understudy.

During the next week, Kurt had rotten luck finding a job. He couldn’t bear to work behind a desk. Cooking complicated meals wasn’t exactly his forte. Should he find another waitering job, or had the past five years permanently scarred him for life? What he should be doing is looking for something he’d enjoy...but sadly that’s just not how the world worked.

He had a major part in a musical, he had Max safe and sound, and he had Blaine being--well, like Rachel said--a dream. He could accept the fact that he might not be hired in a perfect job.

Or, at least, he had to.

* * *

_Fuck what my dad’ll think, I’m bringing Max to work._

And with that mindset, Blaine did exactly that. The six-year-old had a day off in late September, and Kurt needed to focus on job hunting and practicing his lines, so Blaine decided to make his time at _The Anderson Suites_ a little more fun. Which was why Max was wearing a little red tie and rolling a Hot Wheels car across Blaine’s desktop, making _vroom_ sounds.

Blaine grinned, leaning away from his computer and back in his chair. Yeah, this was _way_ more entertaining.

Perhaps it was out of spite, but Blaine kept a passive-aggressive attitude around his father. Little moments, like when Blaine spaced off during an important presentation and Robert pulled him to the side afterwards, casually asking what the presenter had discussed. Knowing his father expected him to be completely clueless, Blaine cleared his throat and promptly explained the specifics of their company’s budget.

Needless to say, it set Robert’s face beet-red and Blaine’s mouth into a smirk.

It’s not so much that he despised the company or his decision to finally contribute to it, more so everyone’s reaction. So what if Blaine may have shown throughout the past years that he didn’t want anything to do with actual work or responsibility and had a reputation of freeloading? Times had changed, and people should realize Blaine was willing to as well.

“ _Vroom...ahh! Crash!_ ” Max said, zooming his toy car off the side of the desk and straight to the floor.

Robert hadn’t seen Max yet. Only the receptionists at the front desk, who cooed over and said how handsome he looked in his button-up shirt and tie. Max had kept a tight hold on Blaine’s hand, staring over his shoulder at the ladies even as they walked away. Whether he seemed confused by the compliments or just plain unimpressed, it made Blaine chuckle.

Max stood now, toy car tight in his fist as he walked around the large, stainless steel desk. “Can you play with me?” Max asked, standing to Blaine’s left and holding out the car.

Blaine sighed, leaning his elbows on the desk’s top and shaking his head. “Sorry, but I cannot.” He gestured at his computer screen, where it still showed a blank document. “I’m suppose to be working.”

‘Working,’ defined more specifically as, ‘My dad sprung this position to hold the next board meeting, where we’re going to discuss a more exciting meal time for the guests. Which seems simple but then you have to consider costs and arrangements and it’s not like we can just put a dolphin show in the middle of the pool.’

Max frowned at the computer, and then at Blaine. “Do you play games?”

“I wish.” Blaine laughed, letting Max crawl up on his lap to get a better view of his desk. “I need to come up with ideas to have supper be more fun.”

“Fun?”

“Yeah, for everyone who visits the hotel.”

Max ceased fiddling with the Hot Wheels car, twisting around to show Blaine his astonished expression. “Get McDonald’s!”

Blaine snorted, even though Max was completely serious. “No, something even more fun.”

Fast food seemed to be Max’s only idea, for his attention focused back on his tiny car with flame stickers along the side. “But there’s toys in McDonald’s. I got this there!” He held up his car. “But...but Daddy said I couldn’t have it ‘till I ate all my chicken nuggets. And I did!”

Blaine nodded, propping an elbow on his office chair’s arm and leaning his cheek against his palm. He wish it were that easy, but he was lost on ideas. Whatever he managed to conjure, he knew it would be struck down or belittled by his father. Why was this so hard? Usually he’d be bursting with creativity…

He considered calling Kurt, getting a fresh perspective, but his boyfriend was probably busy. Caught up in his lines. Blaine understood; he remembered way back when before he was forced to focus on business only, when he had a choir book in his hands and had to repeat the lyrics over and over until they were ingrained in his skull and shined to perfection. At least Kurt was working on something he absolutely loved.

His eyes caught the blank document, and then the idea hit him.

Carefully, he took Max by his sides a hoisted him off his lap, quickly tapping away at his keyboard. Max stood on his tip toes, trying to get a better view, but sadly was unable to understand Blaine’s sentences.

“ _Are_ you getting McDonald’s?” Max asked.

Blaine smiled, shaking his head. “Nope. Even better.”

* * *

How on earth was he rejected twice in one day?

Kurt had called two potential jobs--one working at a music store and another at a coffee shop. Both had been over-the-phone interviews, asking him the typical questions. What skills he had, where else he had been employed. It was only when Kurt requested his sensitive hours, taking in mind the musical rehearsals and caring for Max.

Both times, he was given to talk to the manager, who eventually decided that Kurt’s scheduling would be difficult. They left him with, “We’ll think about it.”

Which Kurt knew translated to ‘No chance.’

While being frustrated about his failures, he couldn’t focus on his script. Lines would blur together or become jumbled. He would trip over his words and blank mid-sentence.

Late afternoon rolled around, and Kurt sat on one of the lush couches, facing the large windows and watching the clouds in the distance as he clutched his script hopelessly. He then heard the front door open behind him, and Max’s delight when Lacy trotted up to greet him.

 _Great_ , he thought bitterly, closing his eyes. More noise, more distractions. God, he just wanted to be _alone--_

“Hello, darling,” came the voice of Blaine, arriving behind him and leaning across the couch to plant a kiss to his cheek. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Kurt said flatly, looking down at his papers. The paragraphs made no sense in his mind. Everything was a constant bell toll, ringing against his skull. He was tired and upset and being surrounded too fast too soon.

“I have _amazing_ news,” Blaine kept talking, dropping his coat on the arm of the couch before walking around, fingers unknotting his black tie with white dots scattering around it. “So I was sitting at my desk, trying to come up with entertainment for the evening dinners. Since, well, you know New Yorkers have seen practically everything, nothing had come to me _except_ when…”

Kurt tried to pay attention. Blaine had dropped next to him, one leg tucked under himself while the other bent over the cushion, his knee touching Kurt’s own leg. Too close, too fast. His boyfriend continued to chat as he fumbled to loosen his shirt, undoing the first couple of buttons. Max was calling for Lacy to follow him into his room, voice echoing off the high walls. Too much noise, too close.

“...like, hopefully my dad will take it seriously. I thought of you, you know. You being one of the unknown yet insanely talented artists we’d have serenading the guests,” Blaine finished, rolling his shoulders and draping an arm around the back of the sofa, so it could be around Kurt.

Kurt blinked and set his jaw. “Wonderful,” he said, watching the clouds again.

“Baby, is something wrong?” Blaine asked gently, his hand coming to rest on his neck, massaging the skin.

Instinctively, Kurt jerked back, standing almost in an instant. “No. I told you, everything’s fine!”

“Well, obviously it’s not,” Blaine pointed out, looking slightly hurt but mostly concerned.

 _God_ , why was he always like this? Crowding in Kurt’s space, jumping in before he even knew what was going on? Kurt’s head throbbed, and even though deep down he didn’t want to yell, the bitterness overruled.

“I don’t need to talk about it!” Kurt shouted. “Just lay off, okay?”

“You don’t need to get snappy about it,” Blaine said, standing as well, now his features more frustrated than worried.

Kurt’s mouth dropped. “ _Snappy?_ I’m _snappy_ because maybe I don’t need you to get all up in my bubble every minute of the day!”

“I was just trying to help! Remember, that’s what people do when they care about someone?”

“I don’t need _help_. You barge in when I’m in the middle of something and demand my attention! Sorry I’m not throwing myself on you at every possible moment!”

“What are you talking about?!”

“ _Just leave me alone for two seconds, alright?!_ ”

“Um.”

They stopped, realizing how tense their stances were, how loud their voices had become. Kurt’s hands were gripping his script, crinkling the pages. Blaine’s eyebrows were down low, and now slowly raising up.

In unison, they turned, seeing the hesitant boy standing near the hallway. He glanced at them, back and forth, gulping.

Kurt relaxed, dropping the script on the cushion and ignoring how grand his headache had grown. “We were just talking, Max. Go and keep playing, okay?”

Dinner brought awkward tension, but it was at night Kurt was truly at a loss. After he prepared Max for bed by himself--including reading the bedtime story without Blaine sitting beside him, taking turns with the voices--he realized that he and Blaine shared a room, meaning he’ll need to confront him sooner or later.

Should he sleep on the sofa? Wasn’t that what people do after a fight like that? He had showered and dressed in his pajamas, searching for a pillow and blanket.

When he was certain he could escape the bedroom with a fluffy pillow before Blaine exited the bathroom, his boyfriend walked out, startling Kurt until he remembered they were supposed to be fighting.

“Can we talk?” Blaine asked, voice soft.

They ended up sitting cross-legged across each other on the king-sized bed, both somehow wearing their collared pajamas. The deep moonlight bathed the room through the large windows while their voices gradually grew less reserved.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Kurt said, picking at the blue comforter. “I had a bad day and...I was just so upset with myself that I took it out on you.”

“I’m sorry for coming on too strong,” Blaine said, a corner of his mouth curling up apologetically. “I should have given you space.”

“It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know.”

“I could have listened.” Blaine then swallowed, shifting closer to Kurt and holding out a hand, waiting for Kurt to accept it and squeeze his fingers. “What...I mean, what you said earlier…” He met Kurt’s eyes, his own hazel ones shining. “Do you really think that I expect you to, I dunno, throw yourself at me?”

“Oh.” Kurt’s breath caught, recalling what had been thrown out. “I mean...no. I was just angry and, I wasn’t being all…” he waved his free hand weakly, feeling dumb for explaining himself, “lovey-dovey and excited about your announcement, like how you wanted me to.”

“Kurt--”

“But I am excited, I really am.” It was his turn to squeeze Blaine’s hand. “What was it? Something about bringing in unknown singers to perform at the hotel?”

Blaine cracked a smile, teetering on bashful, flattered Kurt had remembered. “I can tell you about it tomorrow,” he said.

Kurt nodded. “Okay.”

Their world molded into silence, both of them just breathing and holding each other’s hands. Blaine waited for Kurt to make the first move, and he did. Leaning forward, Kurt rested his forehead on Blaine’s shoulder, closing his eyes. One of Blaine’s hands unlaced from his and rubbed across his back, scratching lightly at his spine. Sighing, Kurt shifted so he could be tucked in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, lost in his scent.

Blaine wasn’t perfect like Rachel thought, but that was okay. Because Kurt wasn’t perfect either. They’re learning, they’re adjusting, and they’re a team. Through thick and thin, better or worse and all that.

Kurt smiled to himself. If he was venturing on wedding vows after their first fight, then they must be good.

* * *

Three days later, Blaine slammed the door shut behind him, his breathing heavy and his forehead creased in anger.

Really, what had he expected? His father to be ready with open arms and a proud smile? All those years of disapproval to just be washed away? Had he been prepared to humiliate Blaine like that?

Lacy was running up to him, tail wagging and tongue hanging out. He ignored her while closing his umbrella, shrugging off his jacket, and kicking his shoes aside, walking past her as he roughly loosened his tie.

Why had he even bothered to try?

Rain was pouring steadily outside, and the penthouse’s large windows were washed with the downpour. The sky was a dark grey from up here, but the home’s interior was bright and cheery. As he walked in towards the living room, he could see the source of the echoing giggles.

“The trolls are chasing me!”

“Oh, no!”

“Daddy, they’ve got me!”

“I’ll save you!”

Blaine cracked a tiny smile, watching as he popped free the cuffs of his sleeves. Max was hopping on the couch cushions, squealing and warding off an imaginary troll with a throw pillow. Kurt, wearing his sweatpants and faded NYADA t-shirt, hurried to snatch Max up and spin him around, safely away from the invisible beasts.

They only stopped when Kurt caught sight of Blaine. Breathless, it took him a moment to take in Blaine’s tired eyes. “Is everything okay?”

Blaine crossed his arms and shrugged.

Kurt set Max down and maneuvered around the couches to Blaine, placing a hand on his arm and the other to wipe some rain from his cheek. “Did something happen at work?” he asked, his fingers sliding to the back of his neck.

Blaine looked to the side, chest still feeling hollow. He didn’t like this, being on the edge of tears over something stupid. It’s nothing compared to what Kurt went through a few days ago.

Kurt turned and asked Max to play in his bedroom, and he did so without question. Then, Kurt took Blaine’s hand and lead him to their own room, closing the door behind. The rain continued to pour, and Kurt guided Blaine into the master bathroom.

It certainly was grand: cream-colored walls, high circular lights. Dark wooden vanity, decorative candles. A tub separate from the large shower.

“Hey, it’s no big deal…” Blaine tried to say, faltering when Kurt’s long fingers started to undo his purple tie. Kurt just hummed, sliding the fabric out of the collar and tossing it on the sink’s counter.

“Tell me what happened,” Kurt said, going to undo the buttons on Blaine’s shirt, “or I’ll go to your father’s office and ask myself.”

How was it that obvious? Blaine groaned, rolling his neck before deciding to help Kurt finish the job, shucking off his shirt and throwing in on the diamond-tiled flooring. “It’s just...I had my presentation today.”

“Mhmm.” Kurt listened, letting Blaine go on with the task of undressing as he crossed to the large, oval tub, twisting the hot water on.

“And,” Blaine fiddled with his belt, fixing his mouth with remembering the events, “I showed everyone my idea. Of having unknown artists sing for our guests.”

“Yeah, and?”

“And.” Blaine sighed, standing there with his hands on his hips and his fly open. His throat felt thick, and his chest tightened again.

Kurt was in front of him again, gently reaching out and placing his hands on either side of his neck. “Wanna discuss more after you get in the bath?”

“The bath is for me?”

“Yeah, silly. You walked in looking like a sad puppy who just got out of the rain.” His boyfriend smiled a little. “I’m not just going to let you stand there shivering.”

So Blaine stripped the last of his layers off, allowing Kurt to lead him by his shoulders to where the tub was steaming. Kurt held his hand as he stepped in, and Blaine couldn’t help but sigh at the warmth.

“Continue with your story,” Kurt instructed, kneeling on the floor with his arms crossed on the edge of the tub.

“Well--” Blaine paused, only to put one dripping wet arm on the edge as well, lacing Kurt’s fingers in between his. “I thought it went alright. Because the committee was nodding and smiling.”

In response, Kurt nodded and smiled.

Now that he was at the terrible part, Blaine hesitated and kept staring at their hands. He knew Kurt was watching him, with those patient blue eyes, soft Saturday hair, and a slightly tilted head. The rain was muffled in this room, and the door was shut.

Blaine looked at Kurt. “Are you sure you don’t want to join me in here?”

Kurt laughed, raising an eyebrow. “Your tactics aren’t going to change the conversation, Blaine.”

“Worth a shot.” Blaine exhaled, dropping his eyes before saying, “My dad talked to me afterwards and said...about my presentation that...it was,” he swallowed, “an amateur decision.”

“What?”

Blaine shook his head. “He called me uncreative and lazy. That he knew I wasn’t trying to push myself or make any effort.”

“But...didn’t the people like it?”

“I thought they did!” Blaine threw his free hand in the air, droplets of water spraying the wall. “Apparently, they were ‘just being polite.’ What kind of bullshit is that? I’m not a tenth grader giving a history report in front of my teacher. This was a business meeting with professionals, I knew what I was doing!”

“I’m sorry, Blaine,” Kurt said gently, the hand not holding Blaine’s coming to rest at his neck, thumb massaging the tense muscle.

Almost instantly, Blaine relaxed. He sank a little more in the water, heart rate slowing down.

It was weird, how Kurt knew exactly how to comfort him. While Kurt himself needed space in times like these, Blaine needed contact. Such different ways of coping.

Turning his head, Blaine looked at him. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Kurt asked.

“Knowing me.”

Kurt smiled. “Well, baths are the remedy for almost anything. Especially shitty days with rainy weather.”

“Yeah. It was like the ribbon to tie it all off. My umbrella almost blew away at one point.”

Kurt let out a sympathetic laugh. “Oh, honey.”

“But you know what?” Blaine shifted, sitting up and moving so his face was inches from Kurt’s. “At least I have a smart, wonderful, beautiful boyfriend to make everything better.”

“Mmm. Back to your tactics, I see.”

“You can’t really blame me,” Blaine said, closing his eyes as he leaned in, cupping Kurt’s face with a wet hand when their lips met. Water probably dripped onto his shirt and the floor, but no one complained.

When they parted, Kurt was humming again, his cheeks a rosy pink. Blaine kept his hand on his jaw, and he almost said it.

Almost. His mouth parted, the words right there. But the time wasn’t right. And not because Blaine was naked in a bathtub and Kurt was in sweatpants.

Instead of asking, “ _Marry me?_ ” Blaine settled with, “I love you.” Which reaction--Kurt’s wide, toothy smile. The way his eyes squinted a bit and his blush bloomed brighter-- made all the troubles of Blaine’s day just float away.

Deciding to live together was truly the best thing ever.

* * *

There’s a time in the morning, if they’re lucky, that’s right as the sun is breaking over the horizon. When the sky is a soft purple and blue, and city life below is more muted. Before Max would be awake enough to barge in and jump on their bed, pleading for them to wake up.

Usually, Blaine would be the first to wake. He would either find Kurt dead asleep in his arms or with his back pressed against Blaine’s chest, snoring. Blaine would then bask in the moment, watching Kurt breathe as he continued sleeping in the peaceful morning.

Except, this time, Blaine was shaken awake suddenly, the mattress bouncing under him, a thrilled voice calling his name.

“Blaine! Blaine, wake up! Blaine!”

He blinked a few times, taking what exactly was going on. Firstly, Kurt was up, wearing only his striped pajama pants and white t-shirt, kneeling on the bed and holding his cell phone while also shaking Blaine’s shoulder. A huge smile spread across his face, his bedhead of hair falling in every which direction.

“What?” Blaine asked, voice gruff. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Kurt laughed, surging in and kissing Blaine square on the mouth, definitely snapping him fully awake. “Nothing’s wrong.” Kurt kissed him again.

While Blaine was perfectly fine with simply this, Kurt broke away and beamed again. “Guess what?” Before Blaine had a chance to open his mouth, Kurt said, “I got a job!”

“Really?” Blaine sat up, running a hand through his hair and beginning to smile. “Oh, my god. Kurt, that’s--”

“I know!” Kurt bounced a little on his knees.

“Where at?”

“That’s the best part!” Kurt paused, letting the anticipation build. “It’s a tailor shop only a couple blocks from the theater! Can you believe it?” He was absolutely bubbling. “Like, sure, it’s not Vogue.com, but I…” His voice broke, the emotion catching up with him. “Blaine, I’m so happy.”

“Sweetheart...”

Kurt laughed, giddy and high, before throwing his arms around Blaine, kissing him once more.

So, this wasn’t part of their routine. Nothing was quiet or lazy at this point, but also no one minded. Really, who cared about schedule when Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt’s torso, flipping him over so he landed on the bed with a squeak, giggling before Blaine covered Kurt’s body with his and connected their lips again.

They were in love, and they knew this was just the beginning of their lives together.


	18. Chapter 18

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your schedule. You’re coming to Britt’s Halloween party, and you're bringing Max and your rich boy toy, too.”

Kurt rolled his eyes up at the diner’s ceiling, shaking his head. Had he not just mentioned that his days were more flexible than in the past?

Santana was on her lunch break, sitting at a small booth tucked in a corner with Kurt across from her. She played with her salad, shuffling around the tomatoes. “Just tell your director person that it’s super important. Like, say your grandma is in the hospital or something.”

“Santana, I’m positive we can make it.”

“Alright! I’m just saying, it’s important to Britt that you can come.” She shrugged, stuffing lettuce in her mouth.

Spotlight Diner was just as Kurt remembered, except for the fact Ronny was conveniently absent. Santana was more than happy to share with him the gossip--how their manager was off in the Caribbean with his wife, “Probably to try and mend their crumbling marriage. I mean, imagine being married to that guy. Imagine it for a second.”

“So, how’s you and Mr. Money Bags?” Santana asked, flipping her long hair over a shoulder. “Berry said you guys moved in together. Which, thank god, right? Does he have, like, fifty servants to babysit your spawn so that you two lovebirds can fuck like rabbits all day?”

“For the last time, Max is not my _spawn_ ,” Kurt said. “Also, Blaine lives in a penthouse, not a castle.”

“Same thing when you live in New York.”

Kurt sighed, pausing a moment before saying, “I also got a new job.”

“Why? Won’t Blaine just buy you everything?”

Kurt ignored her. He’s gotten used to her snide remarks from their years of friendship. “It’s at a tailor shop. And it’s really fun, actually. Usually I just do alterations but sometimes I get to make custom outfits--”

“Hey, your gay agenda is now complete.”

“Santana,” Kurt continued, not bothered by her comment and smiling, “you don’t understand. The people there are so nice and I get to do something I _love_ and--” He paused, only because he was getting choked up.

It didn’t matter that she wasn’t getting it, how unbelievable this was for him. To be working for something that he was good at, that he excelled at, actually. The very idea was ludicrous a few months ago, but now his dreams became reality.

His life was turning around, and this time--finally--for the better.

“Well, I’m happy for you, Porcelain,” she told him, dropping the sarcasm and smiling sincerely. “And the people there are cool with you rehearsing as well?”

He nodded, placing his hands on his lap. “I work at the tailor in the morning and rehearsals all afternoon and then I get home just in time for supper! But sometimes we’ll have rehearsal starting early morning or sometimes it’ll go later, it just depends on the day. Of course, like today, we don’t have rehearsal because ‘we need to relax our muscles,’ as Bernard put it. But the tailor doesn’t mind, as long as I notify them early--”

“Okay, I get it,” Santana cut in, holding up a hand. “You’re busy, but you’re happy.”

Kurt beamed. “Yeah, I really am.”

“You get paid for this show?”

“Yep. Not as much as, like, _Broadway_ performers.”

“A little extra money didn’t hurt nobody.”

“Yeah. I’ve got to go grocery shopping after this, though. Before Max’s parent-teacher conference.”

Dropping her fork on the table, Santana groaned and rolled her neck, coming to look at Kurt with exasperation. “This is why servants _exist_ , Hummel! To do all this mundane crap for you!”

Kurt just laughed, ducking when she threw her napkin at him.

Santana may not be as tolerable or as _warm_ as Rachel, but he still cared for her. Sure, he wondered if she was holding up well at the diner. Rachel quit a couple days ago, meaning their trio was now bumped down to just Santana. But she’s tough, she could handle waitressing on her own.

Huffing, she retrieved her fork and dug back into her salad. “Anyway,” she said, picking out an onion slice with disgust, “I have some good news.”

“Ooo, do tell.”

“ _No_ ,” she looked at him, her lips tugging at a smile, “I have to make sure you’ll keep it a secret. ‘Cause I haven’t told anyone, not even Feminized Frodo.”

Considering Rachel was her roommate, this was surprising. Kurt folded his hands on the tabletop, leaning in on his elbows. “I’m listening.”

Santana glanced around the diner, as if checking for eavesdroppers. She seemed oddly excited, pressing back a smile as she tried to remain casual. Then, she tilted her chin up slightly, looking rather proud when she told him, “I’m going to propose to Brittany.”

Kurt’s jaw dropped. “Wait, really?”

“Mhmm. I mean, I love her. She makes me a better person and she believes in me.” She then smirked. “Lopez-Pierce is happening, bitches.”

“I--that’s amazing! Congrats, Santana!” He reached across the table, nudging her arm. “When?”

“Uh, at the Halloween party, _duh_ ,” she said like it was super obvious. “All our friends will be there and such. Oh!” She held up a finger, suddenly glaring dangerously at him. “Just one rule, okay? Blaine _cannot_ steal my limelight.”

Kurt blinked, giving her a funny look. “Wait, what--”

“Just, have him wait a month or whatever. Because if I know anything about that boy, it’s that he likes to romance it up. Plus, if we get engaged at the same time that means our weddings will probably be at the same time, too.” She threw up a hand. “And how weird would that be?”

“Santana, slow down.” He held up his palms, as if to signal a stop sign. “Blaine is _not_ going to propose to me anytime soon.”

“Well, he will sometime, I bet.” Grabbing her plastic cup, she sipped her soda while gesturing at him, slamming her cup down before, “I mean, you’re practically married already.”

“That doesn’t mean--!” He slumped back in the booth, feeling strangely light headed and flustered. Mostly because he hadn’t really thought much about that particular subject...nor had they really discussed it or anything…

“Or is he that guy that, like, doesn’t want _legal_ commitment?” she asked. “Because, no offense, but he came off that way when I first saw him--”

“No. I don’t know! Look, I gotta go.” Standing, he smoothed down his blue-and-white striped sweater. “Groceries, remember?”

Santana scoffed. “Ugh, adult stuff.” But she did smile in her friendly way. “See ya later, Hummel.”

* * *

Thanks to her, Kurt could barely focus on searching for Lucky Charms.

It was silly to worry about, he knew that. Santana was just being Santana, making remarks without really thinking. Instead of being fixated on the thought of _Blaine_ and _marriage_ , he finally found the cereal he needed, and promptly grabbed a box before placing it in the basket.

Tina would usually shop for groceries. But he had a slot of free time this afternoon and liked picking out ingredients for recipes he wanted to try, or finding Avengers fruit snacks knowing Max would love them, or stumbling upon a bottle of champagne and wondering if he and Blaine wanted to celebrate anything.

_Well, if he pops the question anytime soon…_

Kurt flushed, turning out of the aisle. No, he didn’t need to worry about that right now, or how it was making him feel. He should check out his items, then he needed to head to Max’s school--

“Kurt?”

The word wasn’t the reason Kurt skidded in his tracks and almost ran into a display of double-stuffed Oreos, it was the voice who said it. Just one syllable, yet Kurt’s heart jumped straight from his chest to his throat, tensing every muscle in his body.

He turned to the source, swallowing harshly. “What are you doing here?”

His ex-husband--who should be far, far way in California--was standing a few feet from him, appearing to be walking towards a couple aisles down. He wore dark jeans faded at the knees, a green plaid shirt buttoned up, and a jacket overtop, unzipped. His dark blonde hair seemed a bit longer than the last time Kurt saw him, and bags were less prominent under his eyes.

“I swear, I’m not stalking you,” Liam said, cautiously putting on a teasing smile as he stepped towards him. Slowly, like he was actually respecting Kurt’s space for once.

To explain further, he held up the carton of milk in one hand. “I’m staying in a hotel a few blocks from here. Groceries were running low.” He sort of shrugged.

“But why are you here?” Kurt demanded, his grip on the basket turning his knuckles white.

“I’m writing an article about autumn in Central Park,” Liam told him. “For the magazine. Look, I promise I didn’t accept the job just so I could, you know, try and be close to you again.”

Kurt nodded, even though everything was really hard to stomach at the moment.

For starters, Liam actually looked genuine about everything. Sure, maybe it was the shoppers filing around them that made him civil. But, then again, the customers at the diner never stopped him before.

Liam took another step, smiling a little and gesturing at his items. “You about to check out?”

Kurt nodded again.

“Cool, me too.” Liam hesitated, smile falling. “I mean, is it alright if we walk together there?”  

Kurt relaxed his fingers, exhaled, then nodded again.

“So, um,” Liam started, always the one to begin conversation, “I signed up for online dating.”

“Really?” Kurt raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. I mean, I thought it might be worth a shot.” He shrugged, smiling a little crookedly, like how he did when he was bashful. “I dunno. Maybe I’ll find someone special again.”

“Well, that’s good,” Kurt said, and he really meant it.

Liam looked over at him. “So what’s new with you? Are you still, uh, dating that, um…”

“Blaine?”

“Yeah.” Liam fixed his mouth. “Is it, you know...going well?”

Kurt had to give him credit for trying. While he felt indifferent about Liam dating other people, his ex-husband’s stance on his boyfriend was a significant contrast. “Yep. We’re living together, it’s nice.”

“That’s good,” Liam said, swinging his carton of milk.

They arrived at the checkout counter, the line not terribly long. Kurt waited his turn at the end, and Liam remained at his side.

“And...uh,” his ex-husband continued. “H-how’s Max?”

For a moment, Kurt shot him a sharp glare, but quickly composed himself and said flatly, “Fine.”

“C’mon, Kurt,” Liam’s voice was soft, almost pleading, “I’m his dad, remember? His other dad. I want to know how he’s doing, honestly.”

Kurt stared ahead, focused on his breathing. “He really is doing fine. Um, Blaine has a dog, Lacy. And Max is best friend’s with her, it’s sweet.”

Liam nodded. “Nice.”

They settled in silence as the line grew shorter, now only an elderly woman with a floral patterned sweater was placing her food on the counter one at a time. Kurt tapped his foot, Liam glanced around the store, until he decided to break their peaceful state with one question.

“Hey, do you think I would be able to see him?”

Sputtering, Kurt snapped his head at him, eyes wide and mouth hanging. “Excuse me?”

“Not today, obviously,” Liam explained. “I’m talking in the future, before he turns eighteen. Kurt, I miss him so much. I don’t even know what he’s like!”

“Liam--” Kurt began, but the elderly woman had left, offering his turn.

“You could even be there with us,” Liam said, his grey eyes shining with hope. “Look, I really think I’ve cleared my head and I know what I want in life--”

“No, you don’t understand--”

“Something small, it doesn’t have to be formal or anything. I can fly in to New York, and we can just talk--”

“Liam!” Kurt interrupted, ignoring the annoying looks from the people in line behind them. His ex-husband shut his mouth, expression both confused and surprised.

He knew this was too good to be true. The simple conversation, acting like mature adults. Kurt sucked in a breath, knowing this bombshell would shatter it all.

“I haven’t told him about you,” he said.

The bustle of the store became white noise. Liam’s mouth parted, eyebrows furrowed slightly. “You…” He paused, shaking his head. “What do you mean, haven’t told him?”

“I _mean_ ,” Kurt went on, grip tight on the basket again, “Max doesn’t even know you exist.”

Liam was shocked, to say the least. Stuttering, eyes flickering back and forth, color rising to his face. “What, you just haven’t told him?” he asked, voice growing with every word. “Not even once? Doesn’t he wonder why he only has one parent?”

“Please don’t shout,” Kurt whispered, noticing the stares.

“How fucking selfish are you, Kurt?!” Liam demanded, eyebrows low and forehead creased. He was just as furious as the last time Kurt saw him, when Victoria Anderson graciously tidied up their mess. Although, the reaction is what Kurt expected when he uttered those words. He wasn’t prepared for that statement.

“ _Selfish?_ ” He looked at Liam straight in the eye, completely appalled and edging towards anger as well. “Selfish that I haven’t revealed the identity of his abusive, irresponsible--”

“I”ve changed, and you fucking know it!”

“ _Selfish_ that I’ve sacrificed _my life_ to take care of him! To make sure that he’s healthy and safe--?!”

“That was your choice--”

“ _Selfish_ ,” Kurt took a step forward, forcing Liam to take a step back, “that I’ve fought tooth and nail to get a _sliver_ of that life which you ripped away from me!” At this point, his face must have been deep red and his mouth twisted in rage. “This is all _your_ fault, Liam! _Stop blaming me for your mistakes!_ ”

Thankfully, Liam didn’t get his last word in, for the short cashier lady with a green vest and wide eyes interrupted. “Excuse me, sirs?” she asked, glancing between them. “I’m going to have to ask you to step aside...for the other customers…”

Kurt set his jaw. “I’m buying my groceries. _He_ is leaving.”

While Liam looked absolutely aghast, the woman figured it was best to listen to Kurt rather than settle a compromise. She told Liam if he didn’t leave she’d call her manager, and with a final scowl at Kurt, he slammed the jug on the counter before marching away.

Kurt couldn’t care less about the many stares locked on him as he stiffly lifted each item out of his basket. Any encounter with Liam left him exhausted emotionally, feeling like a boulder landed on his chest.

Except, this time was different. For once, he actually felt like he could breathe. Like no one could walk over him again.

* * *

 _Of course_ he would be late.

Kurt hurried out the cab, having to hastily ask for the driver to stay with his bags of food until he was finished. It would only take twenty minutes, and Kurt made sure he got an affirmative answer before bolting up the school’s steps.

The elementary school’s hallways were filled with echoes. Voices of parents chatting amongst themselves, and more prominently Kurt’s footsteps running to the first grade classrooms.

Did he even look presentable? Would Max’s teacher still be there, or would she have moved on to another parent? _God_ , he couldn’t be late again…

His pace slowed as he neared the classroom. The walls on either side of him bore finger-paint drawings, tiny chairs sat in rows below. They were a colorful contrast to the plain white walls and brown flooring.

Mrs. Perry’s room was at the end, and Kurt could hear her voice--thank god she was still here. However, she was talking to someone. An adult, distinctly male, and she was giggling like a schoolgirl at him.

Kurt slowly peeked inside the classroom, breath catching when he saw who it was.

“Oh! Hey, Kurt!” greeted none other than Blaine, standing in the center and dressed in his business, steel grey suit, even including a red bowtie.

“Mr. Hummel!” Mrs. Perry said next, her cheeks high with blush while she stood beside Blaine. “We’re glad you can make it!”

“Hi…” Kurt said, glancing at Blaine and trying not to smile, especially since he was _very_ confused.

Mrs. Perry, being a short and plump woman, looked up at Blaine. “Your husband here was talking to me about donating to our arts department!”

“Boyfriend!” Kurt quickly corrected, walking up to Blaine and still giving him a bewildered look. “And, wow...that’s great.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Max told us all about his father’s ‘cool boyfriend,’ yes.” Mrs. Perry chuckled to herself, continuing to smile wide up at Blaine. “Anyway, it’s lovely that you both could come. Here, sit down!”

As she turned to head to her desk, Blaine took this moment to place a hand on Kurt’s waist, whispering to him, “Is this okay? I mean, you weren’t answering your phone and I didn’t know if you’d be able to make it so I left Max with Tina and--”

“No, it’s fine. Really,” Kurt whispered back. “And donating to the arts department?”

Blaine just grinned.

The first grader classroom was bright and cheery, all four walls bearing posters of encouraging cartoons or bulletin boards with photos of students doing fun, classroom activities. Tiny desks with small red chairs were grouped in fours. A rainbow, oval carpet sat in front of a chalkboard, next to baskets of worn books. It wasn’t exactly like a private school, having students wearing uniforms in large classrooms, but it was a safe learning environment.

They sat at the two adult-sized chairs in front of her desk. “So, let’s talk about Max,” Mrs. Perry said, settled in her seat and smiling as she gathering some papers. She came off as a very motherly woman, wearing a blue cardigan and cat brooch. Her skin was dark and her hair even darker, cut short and curly. She had square glasses with golden frames, and whenever she smiled it was always warm.

“He’s a very talented boy,” she told them. “Art appears to be his best subject. Why, whenever he’s finished with his other work, he’ll ask for scrap paper just so he can draw a picture.”

Their refrigerator at home proved that. Even after the move, Max’s collage of drawings only grew, given the more space Blaine’s fridge had compared to their old apartment’s.

“He finishes his spelling homework every night…” she continued, flipping through the pile of papers. “He’s very talkative during discussion.”

Kurt caught Blaine’s eye and they shared a knowing smile.

“There is one thing I would like to discuss with you, Mr. Hummel,” she then said, folding her hands, her smile fading a bit.

A stab of panic shot through Kurt’s chest. “What is it? Did he do something wrong?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that.” Pursing her lips, she glanced at Blaine’s worried expression before asking, “Mr. Hummel, does Max has any friends?”

Kurt’s mouth opened, but he faltered for a response. Names of Max’s classmates listed in his mind, the ones he brought up when rambling about events at school. But he must have mentioned…

“I…” Kurt looked at Blaine, who seemed just as lost as him. “I mean, he hasn’t _talked_ about anyone in particular…”

“Mhmm.” Mrs. Perry nodded. “And are there children his age living near him?”

“Well, no,” Blaine said.

“And not at our, um, last place either,” Kurt added.

“I see.” The teacher nodded again, solemnly. “It’s not that his classmates are singling him out, oh no.”

“So he’s not being bullied?” Blaine asked, on the edge of his seat.

“Not at all. Actually, the other children are nothing less than friendly towards him,” she said. “But whenever it’s time for buddy reading or even during recess, Max seems to go off on his own. He’ll play by himself or read alone in the corner.”

Kurt thanked every star he could put on a calm expression while panic increased his pulse. “And, that’s bad?”

“Well, we don’t know.” She held open her palms. “He could simply be shy around the other students or be purposely isolating himself. Communication skills are important early on, Mr. Hummel.”

He felt himself nod, even though every nerve felt numb.

She handed him a pink paper. “We do have an after-school program for children like Max. He’d be assigned a mentor from the high school and they’d do fun crafts and games every week together.” She smiled warmly. “It’s a good program to break him out of his shell.”

Kurt listened and nodded again. It’s all he felt like he could do.

“Or, there’s other options.” She gave him a green paper. “Sometimes all it takes is joining a sport or club. There are some listed here. Does he like baseball or basketball…?”

All these information sheets, the way Mrs. Perry was kindly wording her sentences, added up to one fact that sent Kurt’s brain droning like a bell toll and made his throat feel thick. He thought Max was doing well, he thought he was doing parenting right…

The conference must have been over, because Blaine suddenly stood and thanked the teacher, promising she’ll be hearing more on the Anderson family’s donation. Then, Kurt was following Blaine out the room, holding Max’s report card, his spelling tests, and the green and pink papers.

“Hey, you okay?” Blaine asked, walking down the steps of the school into the sunny mid-afternoon. The cab was still here, as promised. The driver looked pretty relieved that they finally emerged.

Kurt swallowed. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Your hollow voice really proves that.” Blaine was teasing, trying to get him to smile. When it appeared Kurt wasn’t in the mood, Blaine stopped him and put a hand on his arm. “Are you upset about the whole ‘Max-needs-friends’ thing?”

“Well, he _does!_ ” Kurt said. “Blaine, what if he’s like this his whole life? A loner, an outcast. He’ll never make friends, he’ll never fit in. He might not be bullied now, but what if he is later?”

“Okay, slow down. I think you’re jumping ahead a bit.” Blaine glanced at the cab. “Is that your ride?”

“I got groceries.”

“Of course you did.” He smiled. “How about Harold takes us both home, yeah?”

For what seemed to be the hundredth time that day, Kurt nodded.

“Hey now,”  Blaine said, holding his shoulders in his comforting way. “There’s no need for worrying, alright? It’s fixable, like the lovely Mrs. Perry said, and we _will_ fix it.” He ducked to meet Kurt’s gaze. “Deal?”

Kurt broke, a corner of his mouth lifting. “I’m pretty sure she fell in love with you in there.”

“I _did_ compliment her cat brooch.”

“You absolute flirt, Blaine Anderson.” They both laughed, the cloud of tension disappearing.

Kurt then sighed, lowering the papers. Of all the events of that day--Santana’s proposal, the idea of his own, meeting and fighting with Liam once again, and even the sudden surprise of Blaine at the school--this might be the one that brought the heaviest weight in his gut.

The problem wasn’t Max’s lack of social skills, the problem was Kurt’s lack of attention to the matter.

* * *

“Blaine? May I speak to you for a moment?”

Blaine almost jumped in his seat (not that he was daydreaming or anything…) and scrambled to sit straight, appearing on task and ready to work.

Robert stood at the doorway to his office, shoulders back and posture tall. He always stood that way, like he was constantly on a podium giving a speech. Perhaps it was a natural pose, but Blaine always felt it was too robotic, too inhuman. Like his father was always aiming to be the bigger, more powerful man in the room.

Blaine coughed, casually clicking out of his blank document titled, ‘ _Not-as-shitty ideas_ ’ before giving an confirming nod.

Robert glanced around the room before entering. Blaine figured simply because of his Anderson name he got a larger office than many other employees. Huge windows, much like the ones at his penthouse, lined the walls and brought in natural lighting. The furniture was all shades of grey, with an occasional dull blue chair. Sure, it held the name of modern and luxury, but didn’t help with the creative process.

“I apologize. I haven’t visited lately,” Robert said, standing next to the chair normal people would sit at when talking to whoever sat behind a desk.

_Oh really? Is it because when I did my job and gave my idea on hotel entertainment, you shot it down and made me look like an idiot?_

“It’s alright, I’ve been busy.”

“New ideas for the dinner entertainment?” His father smiled, close-mouthed and not reaching his eyes.

Blaine fixed his mouth, gaze not wavering.

“I have to say,” Robert continued, “I was actually surprised you returned to work.” He raised his eyebrows. “You know, after our little dispute earlier this week.”

Dispute? Is that what they called it now?

Robert chuckled to himself. “My assistants were actually betting wagers on whether or not you would quit. But, here you are.” He paused. “Proving me wrong.”

Blaine blinked. “Wait, what?”

“You surprised me, Blaine,” Robert repeated. “And that’s not something people can do easily. History has shown how...reactive you can be. How quickly you depart after not getting your way, like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

“But, here you are.” Robert smiled again, walking around Blaine’s desk so he could rest at the edge, hip perched against the corner and arms crossed. “You’ve grown up.”

While Blaine wanted to say, _No, duh, Pops._ He remained mature, sitting up a little straighter. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Cooper says it’s this…” Robert made an eyeroll, like the idea was ridiculous, “boyfriend of yours. How he shifted your life around.”

“Really? Did he say it on those words?”

“Well, your brother has a more vulgar vocabulary.” Now to Blaine’s surprise, Robert grinned this time in a way which brought deep crinkles around his eyes.

How did this happen? A complete, one-eighty turn of events? Blaine almost felt like people were going to jump out soon, announcing he was being pranked.

“I am proud how you’ve changed, Blaine,” Robert said, more seriously. “For the better. I knew you had the potential and now you needed that push to show it.”

“I haven’t _shown_ anything,” Blaine replied, inching more on snark. Had his father forgotten how he treated his son’s ‘potential?’

“If you’re talking about your presentation and my comments about it,” Robert said, “I was just testing you.”

Blaine’s mouth fell open. “Wh--”

“Oh, trust me, I thought the idea was brilliant. It’ll be a new performance every night, with new voices and talents guests have never lain eyes on.”

His mouth only dropped farther.

“Of course, it needs touching up on. The specifics and details. It’s not like we’ll just let _anybody_ perform,” Robert explained, waving a hand dismissively. “But it’s a start, with great potential.”

“Then…” Blaine said, trying to piece everything together. “Why strike it down?”

“Because I needed to see if you were committed,” Robert answered simply. “I had my doubts, and then you impressed me.”

“Really?”

Robert nodded, smiling in a human way, the ‘proud-father’ way. Not only with crinkly eyes, but also a sincere grin.

“Anyway,” Robert stood straight, uncrossing his arms and putting on his professional appearance, “the Entertainment Committee will help, give their thoughts and opinions. Tidy everything up. If it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work.” He shrugged. “Start from step one.”

“I…” Still a bit stunned, Blaine felt as if he should stand as well, so he did, awkwardly bumping his chair. “Thank you. I mean, I’ll try, I will, I…”

Robert nodded quickly, signalling he understood.

For the first time since stepping foot in his office, Blaine was relieved.

“A long time ago, I declared you and Cooper the heirs to the business,” Robert told him, making his way to the door. “And now, finally, I’m glad we’re beginning to see it become a reality.”

As Robert exited, leaving him alone once more, Blaine actually didn’t feel isolated or belittled. For once he was trusted, respected, and brought pride to his father. He felt elated, like he could run downtown and celebrate.

Unsurprisingly, he did.

The exact number of blocks from the hotel and the tailor wasn’t important, not when Blaine’s suit jacket flapped behind him like a cape, his feet rushing as fast as possible through the packed sidewalks and crosswalks.

The store was small, slotted between a pizza place and vintage record store. The sign out front had a neat thread-and-needle logo. Thank god Kurt gave him the address at one point, or otherwise Blaine would be running all around the city just to see him.

He practically charged through the door, startling the handful of customers and clerk. However, after spinning around in place, Blaine spotted him in the back corner.

Kurt was squatted next to a three-way-mirror, wearing black-and-white checkered skinny jeans and a fitted leather vest, searching for something in a sewing kit. He didn’t look up until Blaine had weaved past the many racks of fabrics and furs.

“Oh, hey!” he said, looking rather puzzled. “What brings--”

Except Blaine slid to the floor beside him--damn the suit and staring customers--and grabbed Kurt’s face before kissing him right then and there.

His boyfriend made a muffled noise of surprise, and Blaine guessed it was the clerk who was snickering. But he didn’t care, not when he had all this energy pumping his pulse, making him want to dance and sing and pin Kurt to the wall and--

“Blaine, Blaine!” Kurt broke the kiss, his giggles overpowering the moment. “What on earth?” Blush was high on his cheeks, but those brilliant blue-green eyes were sparkling.

It was then Blaine realized he was breathing quite heavily, and every patch of skin suddenly felt very sweaty. To answer Kurt’s question, he gulped in some air, lips broadening into a grin.

“I just really love my life right now,” he said, placing a quick peck on Kurt’s lips. Kurt snorted, shaking his head.

“Honey, I know that’d be your sweet and charming boyfriend!” called the clerk from the front of the store, trying hard to hide her chuckles. “But that don’t mean y’all get to continue putting on a show for us!”

As the customers began giggling as well, it was time for both Kurt and Blaine to blush together.

* * *

Thankfully, the Halloween party didn’t intertwine with Max’s plans. Unfortunately, this meant that with their location and therefore new (and more well-stocked) places to visit in their building, Max is an energized bunny when they arrived.

Kurt, on the other hand, was exhausted before midnight. He could blame the jammed-packed atmosphere of Brittany’s loft, or how his costume had too many layers (a Victorian vampire _had_ to have layers), but when in fact it was the day’s events.

Granted, it was a good kind of exhausted. Hours of working at the tailor, then hours of rehearsal (apologizing as he turned down the invitation for a cast Halloween party). It was a feeling of accomplished productivity, sating his muscles instead of making them ache. He smiled to himself, plastic teeth peeking over his bottom lip.

He was really loving life, too.

However, he needed to remind himself on what Santana considered ‘kid-friendly’ and Kurt’s definition. Perhaps she meant no one would slip alcohol in the punch bowl. She never mentioned there would be pulsing music with certain four-letter-words shouted over and over, people dressed like sexy superheroes, sexy firemen--in fact, sexy _everything_.

Kurt slinked away from the crowd some time ago, leaving Blaine to his conversations he naturally conjured up with perfect strangers. A table of red punch and decorated pumpkin cupcakes sat against a square window, welcoming Kurt as a distraction to gather some energy again.

“ _I vant to suck your blood._ ”

Kurt turned, his punch splashing a little out of his cup at the scare. But, of course, it was only his boyfriend--smiling wickedly to match his horrible Romanian accent.

“You’re very frightening, young Skywalker,” Kurt told him, smirking at Blaine’s choice of costume. Sadly, it wasn’t a sexy pirate or sexy policeman. Oh, no, Blaine was determined to wear white tunic and pants, a toy lightsaber strapped to a brown belt.

Blaine laughed, swaying nearer to him, a hand snaking around Kurt’s waist until it was splayed across his lower back. “Well, then I’ll just suck something else,” he said lowly, grin seductive.

Okay, Blaine might have had a bit of Santana’s alcoholic cider. And, if Kurt knew anything from their time dating, is that Blaine was extra affectionate, a wilder dancer, and less subtle on his desires when drunk.

Kurt simply blamed the ruffled tunic, patterned vest, and dark collared waistcoat he wore for how warm his cheeks became. “I don’t think you’d be able to do that here, buddy.”

“I mean...there’s a bathroom…” Blaine pointed out, probably aiming for slow and smooth with leaning in to Kurt, when instead he stumbled a bit on his footing and bumped his mouth on Kurt’s chin, breaking them both into laughter.

A familiar squeal sounded off nearby, and they turned just in time to see Max in his red, white, and blue Captain America costume, his mask missing but his shield held tightly as he ran by. Following close behind was Brittany--supposedly dressed like 2003 Britney Spears. She was saying, “I’m going to get you!” as she chased Max outside of the throng of guests, both of them disappearing out of sight giggling.

“I really hope he’s out cold when we get back home,” Kurt sighed.

“Well, thank god for Brittany. Wearing out the sugar rush before we have to,” Blaine replied.

Kurt hummed in agreement, catching the two hurry off on the other side of the loft. Now, it appeared Max was chasing Brittany, and she was shrieking as they vanished into another room. Hopefully a quieter area, where there’s no inappropriate music or people showing off more skin than normal.

He worried more over Max, especially the whole ‘social skills’ situation. It was odd, considering Max was perfectly fine chatting with adults. Hell, hadn’t he walked right up to Blaine the first time they met, immediately asking for help with his coloring book?

But then again, Kurt wasn’t there with Max during school. How was he suppose to know how Max felt around kids his age?

“You’ve got a worry-look,” Blaine pointed out.

Kurt looked at him and had to lean away a little, caught off guard on how close Blaine had swayed near him. “No, I don’t.”

“It’s Halloween! There’s no time for worrying!” Blaine grinned, throwing his fists above his head and hooting at the crowd. Kurt laughed behind a hand, shaking his head.

“Hey, gay nerds.” Santana emerged from the party, her outfit being a ‘sexy cat,’ including a black leotard and fishnet leggings, the only cat-themed item being fluffy black ears. “ _It’s time,_ ” she whispered to Kurt, winking before leaving again.

Blaine’s excited expression turned to adorable confusion. “Time for what?”

Kurt simply wrapped an arm around Blaine’s waist, smiling and finishing his punch.

Santana was quieting the crowd in a very Santana-way: grabbing a mic by the sound system and cursing first in English and then threatening someone in Spanish. Kurt set his empty cup on the table of treats, Blaine rested his head on Kurt’s shoulder.

“This is the funnest Halloween I’ve ever been to,” Blaine said.

Kurt raised an eyebrow, scanning the orange-and-black streamers and cut-out paper bats. “How’s that?”

“‘Cause, like…” Blaine shrugged. “I dunno, it was just really fun. Like, other times it was just me and Sam at one of his model-friend’s place. And I’d never really remember much except that I got super wasted.”

“Would you dress up like Luke Skywalker then?”

Blaine barked out a laugh. “Nah. It was more last-minute. Sam and I would usually match as male strippers.”

Just as Kurt was about to lose it yet again, Brittany walked out into the living room, Max riding piggy-back and peering over her shoulders. “Ooo what’s happening?” Brittany asked excitedly, noticing the significant volume change.

Santana had hopped up on a coffee table, still holding the mic and waving for Brittany to join her. She did so, continuing to keep Max on her back. Once she was up on the table, she dropped Max down beside her and held his hand.

“But I like things now,” Blaine said, going on with his previous story. Kurt looked away from the scene and at him, tilting his head slightly. “Like, I never thought I would...be partying on this side of the city _ever_.” He chuckled to himself, sighing. “But I like it. I love it. I love _you_.”

“Well, good. Because I love you too.”

“No, I mean I _really_ love you--”

“Ladies, gentlemen, and others,” Santana announced in the microphone, the thumping music turned all the way down so the room filled only with shuffling of feet and her voice. “I would like to say a few words.”

Blaine’s full attention was on the scene ahead, and Kurt watched as well even though his thoughts wandered. While he knew how drastically his life had changed after he met Blaine, he never really considered how much _Blaine’s_ life had changed as well.

Santana was talking to Brittany now, and Kurt remembered their conversation at the diner. Had he and Blaine made each other better people, too? Kurt knew it was true for him; he had learned to lower his walls and finally trust again, to allow someone to love him back. He had given Blaine love in return.

His boyfriend’s jaw dropped when Santana lowered down to one knee, and the entire crowd either gasped or held their breath. Kurt smiled, watching how Blaine’s eyes widened, his eyebrows softening, and the corners of his lips curving up.

Brittany covered her mouth with her free hand, close to tears. Max was gaping, pointing at the ring and shouting, “It’s the box!” erupting laughter throughout the room.

Then, Brittany nodded, saying yes and kissing Santana as the room applauded and cheered. Blaine joined them, being the loudest when he cupped his hands around his mouth and hollered.

“That was awesome!” Blaine said to Kurt, almost too loud considering they were right next to each other. He was beaming, elated (probably the cider’s fault). “That was amazing.”

“I think you’re tipsy,” Kurt snickered.

“You don’t think it’s awesome?” Blaine’s smile fell.

“No, of course I do!” Kurt saw Santana slip the ring on Brittany’s finger, both of them crying at this point. “I’ve always loved weddings.”

Blaine’s smile returned, and he wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist yet again, propping his chin on his shoulder. “If we get married, can it be an awesome wedding? Every wedding I’ve been to has been super boring.” Blaine hummed. “You could sing and stuff.”

Heat rose to Kurt’s face. “If we get married?”

“Well...that’s if you want to get married,” Blaine explained, closing his eyes and pressing his nose to Kurt’s shoulder now, taking a deep breath. By god, did alcohol made him cuddly. “I don’t want to now, I’m really tired.”

Tension from the serious conversation released when Kurt chuckled. It was late, _way_ past Max’s bedtime. They’d be heading home soon.

 _That’s if you want to get married._ Did he, though? So much had happened recently, Kurt wasn’t pondering too deeply on his and Blaine’s relationship. While the idea didn’t make him quake with fear or absolutely repulsed, he still didn’t have a sure standpoint. Yes, he loved Blaine. Sometimes he loved him so much he felt like his heart would burst out of his chest.

Of course, Kurt had been married before. He’s had his own experiences with the concept.

He swallowed, shaking those thoughts away. Blaine was intoxicated and extra-loving, he wasn’t thinking clearly. Kurt didn’t need to overthink anything, at least not now.

The party was busy celebrating the proposal, already the atmosphere mellowing down. Pushing Blaine to stand straight, Kurt met his eyes. “Want to head out?”

“Will you kiss me?” Blaine asked, drawing out the last word as he tilted forward.

“But, Mr. Skywalker,” Kurt sighed theatrically, stepping away from Blaine. “It is forbidden for a Jedi to fall in love.”

Looking down at his costume, Blaine pouted and actually appeared crushed. “ _Kurt_.”

“Daddy! Blaine!” Max miraculously nudged his way through the horde of guests, coming up to them and tugging Kurt’s waistcoat. “Santana and Brittany are gonna get married!”

“We know!” Kurt picked up Max, settled him on his hip and used his other hand to take Blaine’s, leading them both to the exit.

Max leaned the best he could towards Blaine, bringing a hand beside his mouth and whispering loudly, “She had _the box_.”

Blaine didn’t say anything, but he did look rather bewildered. Kurt shook his head at both their ridiculousness, making a mental note to congratulate the girls tomorrow morning. Right now, he had a superhero and a Jedi to get home and put to bed.

It made him smile, knowing life has given him that to be his biggest worry at the moment.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, I haven't updated this quickly since...forever! I've also realized that it's actually getting closer and closer to the end, which is quite saddening but exciting because I want you guys to read HOW it ends!! For now, enjoy!

Max was signed up for the mentoring program.

It happened after long nights of Kurt going back and forth between options, researching outrageous questions (‘what really are the effects of a socially impaired first grader?’), and then being reassured by Blaine that this truly was the best decision.

Explaining the situation to Max was the next step. Kurt sat him at the dining table, letting Max be at the head, and laid out the pamphlets. He told his son how he’d be playing games after school every Thursday with a high schooler, and that other children (with the same issue Max had) would be there too with their own mentor. Kurt tried to sound both serious and excited, not making it seem this was to fix Max, because he didn’t need fixing. He just needed to be more open.

Max, usually one to ask question after question, frowned at the pamphlets and then at Kurt. “Do I have to?” he asked.

Heart aching, Kurt nodded and answered, “Yes.”

Blaine actually looked forward to going to work. He would grab his briefcase and kiss Kurt goodbye with a smile, rather than a groan at what lied ahead for him. Every evening when Kurt came home from rehearsal, Blaine would happily tell him the events which happened that day, instead of grumbling about everything that went wrong.

The shift in behavior was good, healthier even. Blaine was enjoying himself, putting his knowledge and passion of music to string together this project. Kurt often found him humming songs to himself, whether it be when he was on his laptop, making breakfast, or in the shower.

The tailor shop adored Kurt. He saw fashion in a different light than other employees, and it definitely intrigued the customers. His manager--a fashionably bold woman raised in New Orleans named Jasmine--often commented on how certain customers would return, asking for his personal custom outfits.

“Honey, I can’t tell you how lucky we are,” Jasmine told him one day and smiled at him, impressed. “You’ve got this gift, I tell ya.”

Rehearsal for _The Indigo Lover_ was brutal. Kurt respected to a degree on their director’s perfectionism, but there’s a certain point when they practice the same scene for an hour until everyone’s facial expression is flawless and Kurt’s had enough.

Of course he loved it, though. The chaos of backstage scrambling, the gossip with his castmates, the praise given to him from the female lead--who was the equivalent if Rachel and Santana had a lovechild. Crazy talented, but also crazy melodramatic.

Opening night was in a few weeks, and while Kurt informed Blaine of this, he hadn’t expected to come home and be greeted by Blaine holding two tickets, announcing proudly he and Max would be sitting in the front row.

If anything, hearing someone who loved him say those words with pride and joy to Kurt was just as amazing as fulfilling the dream itself.

* * *

Thanksgiving never had so much laughter in the past.

“Actually, I used to date Tina,” Sam bragged from where he sat across from Kurt at the large dining table, glancing to his right where the assistant was blushing and rolling her eyes. “Sadly, we were both too in love with Blaine to have it work out.”

“Oh, _shut up_.” Tina smacked his arm. Kurt just threw his head back and laughed.

In the past, it would only be Kurt and Max at their tiny square table, eating servings for two. Now, Thanksgiving was a feast. Dishes of all sorts--ranging from delicious pumpkin pie to mouth-watering mashed potatoes to the ripest fruits and vegetables--crowded the table. Tall candles were lit in the center, sets of fine china sat in front of each chair.

But, no one had touched the food yet. By Blaine’s request, for his quest for today was to cook the turkey all by himself. Kurt peeked at the kitchen, where Blaine was hunched over the oven. Past attempts told Kurt to keep an eye out, for Blaine once almost set the cabinets aflame when cooking an omelet.

Wearing a pilgrim hat he made at school that day, Max told his new favorite conversation partner Sam, “Aaron at school said he hates turkey so that’s why his mommy makes ham.”

“That’s dumb, what’s the point of Thanksgiving then?” Sam replied, slowly reaching for a dinner roll until Tina slapped his hand away.

“I dunno. Aaron also said he hates corn.”

“And...is Aaron your friend?” Kurt asked, aiming for casual.

Max made a disgusted face. “No. I like corn.”

“Turkey’s done!” Blaine shouted over his shoulder.

Tina winced, sharing a worried look with Kurt. She had offered help to Blaine, but he politely refused. Not even Kurt was sure why he was so determined to cook this alone.

“Max, drumroll,” Sam whispered across the table, then started drumming his hands on the tabletop.

Max copied, his rhythm off and threatening to his china. Tina clasped her hands in front of her chest while Kurt held his breath.

Blaine’s grand entrance had him arriving in his deep red cardigan and brown slacks, his bowtie patterned with autumn leaves. Of course, he also had on an apron, and was carrying a steaming turkey on a shining platter, saying, “Ta-da!”

It wasn’t an exaggeration when at the same time, all of their mouths dropped.

Sure, it wasn’t something out of a cooking magazine, but the turkey wasn’t burnt or under-done. It looked delicious, and Blaine was beaming with pride.

“Holy cow!” was Max’s opinion after he took his first bite, and the others couldn’t help but agree.

“I did good?” Blaine asked where he sat at the head of the table, apron off and napkin tucked in the front of his shirt.

Kurt was chewing a bit of the turkey and smiling, the taste juicy and delightful. He reached and took Blaine’s hand, having them rest between them. “It’s amazing, Blaine.”

In the middle of his devouring, Sam did get the chance to tell stories including him and Blaine. Most including parties, especially when Blaine publically embarrassed himself by puking, stripping, or both. Max laughed at the puking ones, Blaine blushed at the stripping ones, and Kurt squeezed his hand as he tried to hide his chuckles.

The adults had wine around the fireplace, Sam soon having Lacy do tricks while Blaine took Max and sat him on his lap at the grand piano. Tina was telling Kurt about how exactly she landed the job as Blaine’s assistant, and while Kurt wanted to remain interested, his ears couldn’t help but pick up the tune being played behind him.

Blaine was talking to Max, explaining how the piano worked and then plucking the keys himself. Max asked something about the black keys and then the pedals by Blaine’s feet. Kurt caught himself smiling until he remembered he was supposed to be listening to Tina’s story, so he blinked quickly and nodded to whatever part she was at.

Then, a familiar [tune](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KFyLAySsOJY) played softly throughout the room, perking Kurt’s attention elsewhere. Only the chorus, a few soft notes, but still recognizable.

“Hey, that’s your song!” Max told Blaine.

Blaine chuckled. “Yeah, _All You Need is Love_.”

Max apparently tried to play it himself, but ended up hitting a few off-key notes not exactly pleasing to the ear. Blaine gently jumped in, explaining, “Hold on, Mozart. Try this first…” He played the proper notes again.

Tina’s voice snapped Kurt back to her. “Aw, that’s cute,” she said, smiling and nodding at the piano.

Finally, Kurt turned and saw Max’s adorable face of concentration on how Blaine’s fingers were flying across the keyboard. How he tilted his head up to listen to Blaine’s reasoning on what was going on. Although, when it was his turn he smashed the wrong keys again, but Blaine patiently started them over.

“It’s so nice to see him like this,” Tina commented to Kurt. “Blaine, I mean.”

At Kurt’s confusion, she continued, “Well, I’ve known him for so long and before he met you he was very...I dunno, arrogant and self-centered. Whenever I teased him to settle down and stop…” she coughed, staring at her drink, “s _leeping around_ and such, he would look at me like I suggested him to move to Mars.” She quirked a smile again towards the grand piano, where Max successfully played the first two notes correctly and cheered along with Blaine. “It’s...sweet. Seeing how he’s grown.”

“Can you play the blackbird song too?” Max was asking Blaine enthusiastically.

Blaine leaned in to Max’s ear, whispering not-so-quietly and glancing at Kurt, “Only if your dad’ll sing it with me.”

Max gasped, looking at Kurt with wide eyes. Kurt glared at Blaine and stuck his tongue out at him, which made Tina laugh and Blaine and Max to mimic him, Max soon bursting into a fit of giggles.

Sam then said from his spot on the floor, cross-legged while rubbing Lacy’s belly, “Dude, why don’t you show him an easy song, like _Twinkle Twinkle Little Star?_ ”

“Aw, you’re no fun.” Blaine pouted to his friend before turning back to the piano, lining up his hands on the keys and telling Max, “Okay, it starts like this…”

Kurt wasn’t going to continuing chatting with Tina anymore. He kept standing, nursing his beverage and facing where his boys were seated. Max was asking how a note could be flat and did that mean there were chubby notes too. Blaine chuckled, his smile so wide it squinted his eyes.

 _His boys_. That thought and the image in front of him was more than enough to make Kurt’s heart swell with overwhelming fondness. He could get used to celebrating holidays like this for the rest of his life.

* * *

“That’s it, I’ll pull him out. It’s the best solution.”

“Kurt--”

“No, Blaine! He’s unhappy and being pushed too far out of his comfort zone! I’m not going to let him continue this.”

Max came home after his first day with his mentor, a kind seventeen-year-old named Catherine, with freckles and blonde hair done up in a ponytail. It was only for an hour after school, and when Kurt asked how it went Max frowned at the floor and marched off to his bedroom.

Which lead Kurt to reconsider his decision, to wonder how exactly Mrs. Perry knew his son better than him. Blaine caught him pacing in the kitchen, which is why they were now arguing.

“Sweetheart, you know this is good for him,” Blaine said carefully, holding his hands up as he took a step towards Kurt, like to signify he was unarmed. “He needs to learn how to communicate with other people.”

“He _does_ do that, Blaine,” Kurt countered, hands on his hips.

“With his dad’s friends?”

Kurt huffed and looked away.

Blaine took another step, hands finding their way to Kurt’s shoulders, smoothing back and forth across the soft fabric of his turtleneck. “You said yourself that he needs to make friends with kids his age.”

“Not if we _force_ him,” Kurt said, voice defeated rather than snappy.

A beat, and then Blaine asked, “Want me to talk to him?”

An honorable challenge, considering Kurt tried to peek into Max’s room the moment he stomped into it. Max, hunched beside his pile of action figures, yelled to be left alone. What could Blaine do differently?

But of course, not a minute later Blaine gently knocked on the door frame, requesting entrance. Kurt stayed in the hallway, next to Max’s room but out of sight and close enough to hear.

Max didn’t say anything, though he either nodded or Blaine walked in anyway. Kurt craned his ear, trying to catch the conversation and imagine what was going on.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Blaine started, probably sitting down next to Max and his action figures. Blaine, with his dress pants and white button-up, tie hanging loosely around his neck and down on the floor in the center of a child’s bedroom. It didn’t take a lot of imagination to picture that.

“I don’t wanna talk,” Max mumbled, most likely fidgeting with his toy.

“Why not? You seemed upset, and your dad and I are worried.”

“‘M not upset.”

“So you’re super happy?”

Kurt could just _see_ Max’s glare, which Rachel always said was identical to his. “No.”

“Then what’s wrong?”

No answer.

“C’mon, did something happen at school?”

Max must have shaken his head.

“Then when you were at the mentoring program?”

No answer.

Blaine sighed. “Did something go wrong? Your high schooler seemed nice. What was her name? Catherine?”

“Yeah, she was nice.”

“Then what’s up, buttercup?”

Max snorted at the nickname, then went back to muttering, “She…” A pause, probably distracted by an action figure again. “She had lots of friends there.”

“Catherine?”

“Yeah. There’s other kids and they’ve each got a mentor, too. So...Catherine’s friends were mentors and...we had to play with them.”

“Was that bad?”

“Well, I didn’t…” Max’s voice grew quieter. “I didn’t know any of those kids. It wasn’t any fun.”

Kurt’s heart sank. He felt awful and horribly guilty. Max sounded miserable and Kurt understood. He was different growing up, and never had any real friends until high school.

“I’m sorry, Max,” Blaine said.

“Do I have to go back?” Max asked, voice piped up to begging. “I don’t wanna. Can you ask my daddy, pretty please?”

“Slow down, pal. Let’s think about this for a sec.”

Max was silent, so Blaine continued, “Alright so, number one reason is that the mentoring program was zero fun. All torture and hardship.”

“No, I had some fun!”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah! I mean...Catherine and I colored a little at the beginning. Then she got the box of Legos and we played that. She made a house and I made a car.”

“Wait hold on...you said you didn’t have fun.”

“I _didn’t_ ,” Max sighed exasperatedly, “when we had to play with her friends! We had to share our Legos with them and then there was this boy named Caleb and I think he was in second grade but he took all the blue pieces!”

“So Caleb made it no fun?”

“Well...kinda…”

Kurt hadn’t noticed he was holding his breath. He exhaled, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as he waited for someone to speak.

Blaine was the first to, and he said gently, “Max, I think you need to give it a chance.”

“But…”

“ _But_ what about Catherine? She only knows how to make a Lego house! You need to help her expand her skills, my friend.”

Max giggled, and Kurt finally cracked a smile.

“And I bet the other kids, not counting Caleb of course, did have fun playing with you. Maybe they want to talk to you next time!”

“No they won’t,” Max mumbled.

“How do you know, can you see the future?”

They were back in a fit of laughter, and Blaine must have poked Max’s side because he squealed, thumping on to the floor and scurrying away. Intuition told Kurt it was a good time to join as well, so he pushed off the wall and peered inside the room.

Max was indeed scooting away from Blaine, holding up a Batman action figure as a defense. Blaine was about to crawl over with his Thor action figure held high in the air. They both stopped in place at the same time, looking over at Kurt.

“Everything okay?” Kurt asked.

Blaine hurried to his feet, wiping his knees before approaching Kurt, grinning broadly. “Absolutely.” He pecked his lips quick, which resulted in Kurt smirking and Max groaning from the floor.

“No worries,” Blaine whispered, locking his eyes on Kurt’s. He was honest and serious, smile reassuring, releasing the last bit of concern out of Kurt’s chest. “I promise.”

* * *

Being off-off-Broadway, the theater didn’t hold many seats to begin with. But, when Kurt peeked through the curtain on opening night, he caught sight of the crowd of people, filling every single seat.

His pulse accelerated, the nerves catching up with him. Back in the days of NYADA, when he performed skits for classes or was lucky to land a role in a student production, he learned out to channel those jitters into energy, pumping him up for his performance.

However, he never had his son and boyfriend both waiting in the audience to watch him.

Stage crew and cast members bustled behind him, rushing to get ready. A manager with headphones passed Kurt, whisper-shouting, “Ten minutes!” and tapping Kurt’s shoulder, telling him to go in place.

Nodding, Kurt stepped away from the curtain and carefully maneuvered around other scurrying people.

Perhaps these were nerves from excitement. It’s not everyday you get an opening night for a musical you star lead role in. Those people paid tickets to see him sing and perform. He was going to move them to tears and make them howl with laughter, all in a time span of a few hours.

He had been dreaming about this since before he stepped foot into NYADA.

Kurt caught himself smiling, deciding it was _definitely_ excited nerves.

He’ll remember the minute when the curtain parted and the spotlight hit him for the rest of his life. The slightly scratchy fabric of his periwinkle tuxedo and comfortable snug of his black and white wingtip shoes will stick in his mind forever. But when the piano played it’s first key and the band began, giving him his cue, will be remembered as the moment when absolute joy filled Kurt’s chest and stretched to every limb of his body, letting him shine.

Every second was a dream come true, Kurt almost had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn’t imagining it all.

“Baby, you were incredible,” came Blaine’s voice, once the crowd around stage door faded out.

Outside, the street was buzzing with traffic and noise of the dwindling audience who chose to stay and congratulate Kurt. He received many hugs from coworkers who came, a big, smacking kiss on the cheek from Jasmine his manager, and a comment from Brittany who told him that his character’s love interest was hotter than him (which resulted in a glare from her fiancée).

Rachel couldn’t make it, due to her own show, but Kurt understood. Besides, there were already plenty of friends and strangers praising him after his performance to even process it all.

“Thank you.” Kurt accepted a quick kiss from his boyfriend, feeling like he could finally take a breath. His make-up was off and his costume was gone, now wearing a black overcoat and scarf to keep warm from the chilly November night air.

“Daddy, did you see us? Did you see us?” Max asked, bouncing the best he could in Blaine’s arms. They were both dressed smarty--Blaine wearing a grey suit and Max wearing his black one, both donning a bowtie. Max was propped against Blaine’s hip, clutching on to his shoulder and wrinkling the expensive material from excitement.

“I did!” Kurt reached and smoothed his son’s combed hair. How could he forget the point when he spotted Blaine and Max in the front row, mirroring expressions of awe and pride. “You both look so handsome.” He glanced at Blaine, smiling.

Max stared down at himself. “Blaine said a bowtie makes me classy.”

“You looked handsome, too,” Blaine told Kurt, grinning widely. “I mean, Kurt...you were _so_ amazing up there--”

“I liked the part when you punched that guy in the face!” Max added.

He may be exhausted out of his mind, but Kurt couldn’t stop smiling. “Thank you,” he said again, still believing this was a dream and he was going to wake up any second now.

Except, Blaine brought a hand out from behind his back, causing Kurt to gasp and Max to giggle.

“Roses?” Kurt gawked at the large bouquet, each flower richly red and fully blossomed. He accepted them, catching Blaine’s smile. “ _Blaine_ ,” he said, pressing away an elated laugh.

“What?” Now using his free hand, Blaine rested it on Kurt’s waist and brought him in for another kiss. Longer and deeper, sending tingles all the way to Kurt’s cold fingertips.

They only broke because Max was sticking out his tongue and trying to squirm away. “ _Ugh_ ,” Max groaned, only making the adults laugh. “Stop being gross.”

“Gross?” Blaine mocked surprise, pulling Kurt closer and squishing the roses a bit. “ _This_ is gross?” He pressed his lips hard against Kurt’s, both of them trying not to laugh again while Max grimaced and covered his eyes.

Feeling flushed at the cheeks and sore on his feet, Kurt exhaled, air visible in this weather. His heart was pounding in the same way as before the show, except there was a sense of delight there, too.

“I’m so proud of you, Kurt,” Blaine said, a gloved hand on his arm, his thumb rubbing idly. “When you were up there, you were absolutely glowing and...god, I’m going to cry again.”

“Blaine cried a hundred times,” Max informed Kurt.

“Aw, honey.” Kurt cradled the bouquet against his chest, feeling oddly flattered and bashful at the same time. Though, with the way Blaine was looking at him with watery, golden eyes and a smile so big it puffed his cheeks and showed his teeth, it was difficult not to.

His pulse slowed, only because it was coming to realization. This wasn’t a dream, Kurt actually did sing in front of all those people and they jumped to their feet for a standing ovation. He was now holding roses, given to him by someone he loved so much sometimes it felt as if his heart couldn’t contain it. And in the person’s arms was his handsome son, beaming at Kurt like he was a superhero.

This was Kurt’s life, and it was _beautiful_.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT SO a couple things.  
> 1) My apologizes for such a late update! I curse you busy schedule. However, I hope you do enjoy this twentieth chapter (twenty!! Holy crap!) It's officially the longest one yet, filled with a TON of stuff. So...enjoy!  
> 2) Glee finale aired last week...and I'll just say I haven't smiled that much in days. It was amazing, I loved every second. And I'll hopefully continue writing Klaine, because let's be real, their story hasn't ended yet ;)  
> 3) This work has reached over 10,000 hits. OH MY GOD?? Thank you thank you thank you thank you. I feel like I can't express my joy enough. Thank you :)

“Get up! Get up! Daddy, Blaine, get _up!_ ”

In response, Blaine buried his face into his pillow, squeezing his eyes shut and wishing the chanting would go away so he could drift back into sleep. It would be nice to return to dreams of tranquility. However, the bed continued bouncing under him, and suddenly there were bony knees landing on his legs.

“It’s _Christmas!_ ” yelled Max.

Hearing Lacy bark from somewhere in the room, Blaine blinked open his eyes, rolling onto his back and realizing the sun barely peeked over the horizon. What time was it?

Max was a ball of energy, wearing red plaid pajamas and jumping around the room, chasing Lacy and saying, “It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas!”

Blaine brought a hand to his face, trying to rub away the drowsiness as the noise went on. Then, he felt a press of lips to his temple, then a soft and gentle, “Merry Christmas, Blaine.”

He smiled, dropping his hand and seeing his boyfriend propped up on his elbows, obviously more awake than Blaine. “Santa must’ve brought presents,” Kurt explained, glancing at Max before giving Blaine a look. “Remember?”

Of course he had, it was the first time Blaine had ever snuck out with Kurt after Max was fast asleep, collecting all the hidden presents and arranging them in the living room. Afterwards, they equally shared the milk and cookies and watched the snow lazily fall on the other side of the gigantic windows.

Kurt had kept talking about the tree, saying it was so much more dazzling than anything he and Max owned back at the apartment. He was so ecstatic when they decorated it--the large, ten-foot faux evergreen donned in gold garland, rainbow lights, and dozens of ornaments Blaine never bothered to use before, for he never really needed to set up a tree. There had been no point before, for he was the only one here.

This year was different, in all the good ways.

But, after Blaine checked the digital clock next to their bed, he asked Kurt, “Why at five-thirty in the morning?”

Kurt just laughed and threw the comforter off their bodies.

“Holy cow, there’s so _many!_ ” Max exclaimed where he sat in front of the Christmas tree, gawking at all the wrapped gifts surrounding him. Lacy was already sniffing around at each box, tail wagging rapidly. When he got a nod from his dad, Max snatched the nearest gift and tore apart the paper.

The living room was warmly lit with the glow of early sunshine, its light glittering off snowfall from nearby skyscrapers. Blaine handed Kurt a mug of coffee before sitting down beside him on a couch, leaning his head against Kurt’s shoulder as Max used all his strength to open the cardboard box, his mouth fixed in determination.

Kurt cradled his mug and smiled when his son gasped, amazed at his brand-new remote controlled car. Blaine had tilted his head up just in time to catch Kurt’s dimples and crinkled eyes, the way he looked so relaxed and at ease in his striped pajama pants and white t-shirt, feet socked and hair rumpled. Early Christmas mornings were a cinch for him, probably after years of practice. Thank god Blaine had his shoulder to rest against as he tried to stay alert as well.

“Whoa!” Max gasped, staring down at his next present: a new set of Batman Legos.

“Those are cool,” Kurt commented before taking a sip of his coffee.

Max beamed and let Lacy sniff the next gift before he began ripping away the paper.

Blaine _desperately_ wanted to keep awake, but years of sleeping until noon on Christmas day wasn’t going to vanish just yet. It didn’t help that his boyfriend was so comfy. He jolted when a knock came from the front door. Placing his own untouched cup of coffee on the end table, he heaved himself up, figuring the journey to answer the door would erase any fatigue left.

“Blaine!” Max called from living room, holding up his newly-opened gift. “Look! It’s a lightsaber!”

Blaine looked up from the packages delivered to the door, now balancing in his arms. “Really?” He raised his eyebrows, jaw dropping as he walked back to Kurt. “That’s awesome!”

(His heart was also soaring, knowing Max liked the present he personally picked out).

“What are those?” Kurt asked, craning his head at the mail.

Blaine dumped them on his lap, studying a rectangle package before passing it to Kurt. “Here, one from your parents.”

“Blaine, Daddy,” Max said out of breath, hurrying up to them with his recently unwrapped gift. “Santa got me a Captain America action figure!” He climbed on to the cushion on the other side of Blaine, pointing at his box. “Look, he can fight!”

“Wow!” Kurt and Blaine said together.

Wrapping paper covered the living room, and Lacy decided to curl up and take a nap in the very middle of it. Blaine gave Max his gift from his grandparents, and then was surprised to see Burt and Carole had one labeled for him, too.

“Oh, what did you get?” Kurt asked, apparently as surprised as Blaine. His present from them had been a plum silk tie, and he held it as precious as a diamond.

Blaine cautiously tore away the brown paper, unknowingly holding his breath. Until he opened the lid to the box...and he and Kurt snorted.

“A plum tie for me, too?” Blaine held it up, shaking his head and laughing.

“No, it’s a bowtie,” Kurt pointed out, failing to control his snickers.

“ _Still_ , they’re both plum! We’re matching!”

“Oh, my god. Is that a thing? Getting couples matching presents?”

“I got more Lego Batman!” Max exclaimed, holding up a smaller set of Legos and kicking his feet excitedly.

The next package was from Cooper, and since it was addressed to both Kurt and Blaine, Blaine let Kurt open it. Max hopped off the couch and ran back to his gifts, now focused on freeing his toys out of their casing.

“Please tell me it’s not a sex toy,” Blaine groaned, waiting for Kurt to finish unwrapping.

Carefully, Kurt opened the lid, eyes widening and cheeks blushing in a matter of seconds. He slammed the lid back over, snapping his head at Blaine and obviously trying not to laugh.

Kurt then tugged Blaine close to him, whispering into his ear, “It’s candy cane scented lube.”

Blaine was going to kill his brother.

His boyfriend, however, was close to cackling. Blaine glared at him, pouting until Kurt noticed and then causing him to laugh louder.

“Hey, you need to open your presents!” Max said, turning their attention to where he was. He reached under the tree and emerging with folded colorful papers. Kurt set Cooper’s gift aside, resting his hands on his lap as Max approached.

“Here’s Daddy’s,” Max handed Kurt the red paper, then he turned to Blaine, “and here’s yours!”

“You made me a present?” Blaine asked, genuinely surprised as he accepted the green paper.

Max nodded. “We made them at school and Mrs. Perry said I could make two like all the other kids and so I did!”

Kurt opened his card, _aww_ -ing when he saw the drawn snowflakes and lopsided Santa Claus, along with Max’s handwriting spelling, _I love you daddy!!_ “It’s very beautiful, Maxie. Thank you.”

Curious, Blaine opened his own card. It too had snowflakes, made with blue lines crisscrossing over one another. Instead of Santa, Max drew a snowman in a top hat. And for the message, Max wrote in big letters, _I love you blaine!!_

Kurt was soon smoothing a hand down his bare arm, and it was then Blaine realized tears were welling in his eyes. He let out a sort of breathy laugh, too much emotion surging up in his chest at once.

“Do you like it?” Max asked eagerly.

Blaine managed a nod, swallowing and looking up at the boy. “Very much. Thank you.”

Thrilled on his success, Max skipped around the coffee table, returning to his gifts. Blaine couldn’t stop staring at his card, eyes only leaving when he felt Kurt snuggle up to his side, tucking his chin over Blaine’s shoulder.

“You okay?”

Blaine smiled and nodded, watching Max place Captain America on top of his remote controlled car, fiddling with the joystick until the car zoomed forward, crashing into an empty cardboard box, startling Lacy.

Yes, this year was definitely different, in all the _best_ ways.

Kurt grinned, swiftly planting a kiss to the side of Blaine’s neck.

“There’s one more package,” Blaine noticed still seated on his lap. It was his address, but with Kurt’s name. He handed it to his boyfriend, and Kurt examined it questionably.

Lacy was watching the whizzing car carefully, especially when it moved closer and closer to her tail. Kurt stripped the box of its tape and took a peek inside. First, he pulled out a white envelope, which had Kurt’s first name written in pen. Something in Kurt’s eyes shifted at the handwriting, causing him to open the letter with extra caution.

“Who’s it from?” Blaine asked.

Kurt read the note, jaw stiff and hands steady, only his eyes moving back and forth across the words. Once finished, he folded it back up and placed it inside the box, closing the lid and exhaling.

To answer Blaine’s question, he blinked a couple times before shaking his head, lifting his head to put on a smile, as if trying to say, _Please don’t worry about it now._

The sun was edging its way through the skyscrapers, the early December sky soft blue and yellow. Blaine eventually stood, setting his gifts next to his coffee mug and offering a hand out to Kurt. “Well, I believe it’s time for your present, darling. Yes?”

“Yes!” Max agreed loudly.

“ _No_ ,” Kurt said firmly, smile gone and face completely serious. “We agreed we wouldn’t be exchanging gifts, Blaine Anderson!”

Max fell to his knees, clearly disappointed there was no more gift unveiling.

Blaine feigned a crestfallen face, even adding a bat of his eyelashes. “Not even if it was breakfast?”

“I want Lucky Charms!” Max declared.

Blaine shook his head, hauling Kurt up from the couch after he had his hand. “Nope. I’ll be making something even more special. The greatest breakfast dish the world has ever known.”

At Kurt’s raised eyebrows, Blaine winked and told him, “Why, Mickey Mouse chocolate chip pancakes, of course.”

His boyfriend gave him a look, one with a smile that tried not curl the corners of his lips. Max was cheering, pumping his fists in the air. “Best Christmas ever!” he shouted to the ceiling.

No one could argue with that.

* * *

Kurt pulled him aside after Max ran off to change out of his pajamas, holding the mysterious package which caused so much distress. He whispered what he needed to be done into Blaine’s ear, voice breaking now and then, but made Blaine meet his eyes when he was finished.

Blaine swallowed harshly, then nodded.

He didn’t walk with Kurt into Max’s bedroom. Instead, he stood right outside his doorway, out of sight but ready in case Kurt needed him.

“Maxie?” Kurt asked, the box probably held tight to his chest. “Can we talk for a moment?”

Sounds of blankets crinkling emerged, and Blaine gave in to temptation and peeked inside the doorway. They were sitting on the bed, Max’s feet swinging and Kurt’s eyes glued to the parcel.

“Honey…” Kurt started, fingers tapping on the box. “Remember that one time you asked me if you had a mommy?”

“Yeah. But you don’t like girls,” Max replied.

Kurt’s mouth twitched at a corner. “No, you’re right.” He sighed, shifting so he could face his son better. “But...you did have another daddy.”

In the beat of silence, Max’s brow furrowed. “Another daddy?”

Blaine’s heart clenched for Kurt, who was so brave to finally delve into this subject he had been avoiding for so long. “Yep.” Kurt nodded. “A long time ago, when you were only a baby.”

Max’s legs stilled. He was frowning in confusion. “But...where is he?”

“He left,” Kurt told him, eyes back down on the package.

“Why?”

Hesitating, Kurt inhaled deeply. “Because him and I didn’t love each other anymore, honey. That’s it.”

“Oh.” Max blinked, confusion still evident but not questioning further.

“But that didn’t mean he doesn’t love you,” Kurt went on. “He, um, never got to give you a Christmas present. And he sent you one today.”

Max’s face lit with interest. Kurt gave him the box, folding his hands on his lap afterwards. “In the card he said...um, he said he didn’t know what you would like,” Kurt said as Max tore apart the cardboard. “So if you don’t--”

“Whoa, cool!” Max exclaimed, eyes wide as he pulled out a plastic-encased Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure. He turned it over in his hands, a smile growing.

Kurt was relieved. “You like it?”

Max nodded. “Yeah! It’s Leonardo. He’s my second favorite.”

He then put down the toy, looking up at his father. “Why didn’t he come and open presents with us?”

Kurt’s folded hands tightened. “Well, sweetie...it’s very complicated, you see. He lives somewhere else right now...” An ‘ _and_ ’ hung in the air, but Kurt didn’t continue.

“Oh,” Max said again.

Kurt wetted his lips, eyes flitting as if deciding on an explanation. Blaine was prepared in the case of any waterworks, of course. Yet, he stayed where he was, knowing his boyfriend was strong enough to handle this.

“But,” he finally said, “if, in the future, you...wanted to meet him, and only if you _wanted_ to, we could. If you wanted.”

Max looked at the toy once more before at Kurt. “Maybe.” He shrugged his shoulders, up to his ear and slacked down again.

Kurt nodded, sighing and seeming relaxed once again. Lines in his face disappeared, and he caught Blaine’s gaze. He wasn’t upset, in fact he smiled. Years of tension and fear lifted, leaving him looking more at ease than Blaine’s ever seen him when dealt with that particular topic.

Knowing that, seeing steps slowly yet steadily being taken in a better direction, Blaine returned the smile as well.

* * *

 _Huge_ didn’t even come close to what the Anderson’s mansion was. Blaine’s penthouse seemed like a mere bedroom compared to it; Kurt’s old apartment was equivalent to a coat closet. It was _massive_.

Less than an hour away from the city, the mansion definitely gave off the impression of wealth and power. It resided on spacious land, cloaked with newly fallen snow. The brick siding was a golden brown, the roof a deep grey. The windows were tall and countless, and the ceiling stretched high above the ground.

To sum it up, Kurt felt entirely overwhelmed.

Not as much as when he arrived to the banquet. At least he had been accustomed to Blaine’s world of the grand and impressive.

Being their infamous Christmas party, the Anderson’s decorated their home accordingly. Lush garland was strung like something out of a magazine, and lights twinkled where they swirled around perfectly trimmed trees.

The party took place in the front section of the house--the large entrance with its curved, grand staircases leading upstairs, a vast living room with lines of windows viewing the frozen garden, and finally a lounge where caterers in snow white suits walked around balancing platters of appetizers.

And it seemed like _everyone_ was invited.

Kurt stayed at Blaine’s side, being introduced to family friends, co-workers, cousins, uncles, and aunts. They all shook his hand and smiled, complimenting his deep red suit with its black collar and yes, plum tie. Some asked how on earth he got stuck with Blaine while they laughed, others were more judgmental on their relationship but said nothing.

Blaine was nothing less than socially charming, wearing an off-white suit with a dark green bowtie (not the plum one, just because Kurt teased him about it). He joked with his friends and shared stories with his relatives, gushing about Kurt and raving about his show until Kurt was blushing.

Max clutched on to Kurt’s hand, staring up at the surrounding guests with wonder. It was his first time stepping into the lavish life of the wealthy, after all, save from the penthouse. People cooed over him and asked him what he got from Santa. One particular great-aunt of Blaine’s bent down and pinched his cheek, saying how dapper he looked in his little black tux and red tie.

“Hey, Blainey!” came a voice the two were already familiar with. The turned just as Cooper pushed his way through the guests, one hand holding a glass of champagne and the other on the waist of his wife. “Kurt, lovely to see you as well. Oh, and is this Max?”

Max tilted his head at Cooper. “You look like Blaine.”

They laughed, and Cooper cleared his throat and replied, “Well, I am his brother, you see.”

“Merry Christmas!” Victoria said, stepping away from Cooper to embrace her brother-in-law and then Kurt, squeezing him tightly. She was truly stunning this evening, her dress pure white, slim fitting and low-cut down her chest. Her dark hair was swept in waves over one shoulder, and diamond earrings dangled from her ears. “Is everything okay?” she asked Kurt quietly when she pulled back. “No troubles?”

Kurt understood what she was trying to say. It was very generous of her to do so, and while there was that dispute at the grocery store, but then a gift to Max earlier that very day, Kurt shook his head. “Everything’s going fine.”

She smiled. “Good.” Then she gestured at her earrings. “You see these? My _husband_ gave them to me as a present, even though we decided no gift-exchanges this year.” She rolled her eyes, smirking over where Blaine and Cooper were in a conversation. “I secretly bought him a new motorcycle, so I suppose we’re even.”

Kurt laughed, finally feeling comfortable talking to a guest at this party. “Blaine and I decided that, too. Although, we’re actually keeping our promises.”

“Ah, ah,” Victoria shook a finger, a twinkle in her eye. “Though they’d never admit it, those Anderson brothers _love_ romance. I’d bet you anything Blaine actually has something for you.”

Kurt scoffed. “I highly doubt--”

“Sweetheart!” Blaine interrupted, stepping in and grabbing Kurt’s other hand. “My parents are here.”

“Oh?” And just like that, Kurt was being pulled away from Cooper and Victoria, tugging Max along as well. The three weaved through the pods of guests and waiters, until they made it to the other end of the lounge where an elegant fireplace rested against the wall, a decorated wreath hanging over top it.

“Mom, Dad,” Blaine said, slightly out of breath as they approached the couple standing beside it. “I’d like to introduce you to someone.”

Kurt had already seen Blaine’s father, Robert Anderson. He looked just as haughty and regal as before, with a tailored black suit and his hair the same shade as Blaine’s, only streaked grey along the sides. He didn’t smile when he saw Kurt, only raised his eyebrows slightly.

Blaine’s mother, however, was a completely different story. Shorter than Blaine, she beamed up at them, a glass of almost-finished champagne in one hand. She was incredibly gorgeous, her dark brown hair flowing around her shoulders and her gown a flattering midnight blue. “Is this Kurt?” she asked rather loudly, gasping and widening her eyes at her husband.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” Kurt said politely, hopefully not looking as terrified as he felt. When Blaine met his parents for the first time, he looked like Kurt was leading him to his doom. Now, he understood his boyfriend’s fears. At least Burt and Carole were small-town Ohioans and not a ridiculously upscale couple.

“Oh, you’re so handsome,” she enthused, suddenly throwing her arms around Kurt’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug. She smelled distinctly of alcohol, and she planted a large kiss to his cheek.

“ _Mom_ ,” Blaine groaned, embarrassed.

“You look beautiful as well, Mrs. Anderson,” Kurt told her after they separated, and for a moment he worried she might topple to the floor.

However, she remained upright, downing more of her drink while waving a hand. “Please, sweetheart, call me Pam.”

“Pamela, darling, I think you’ve had too much--” began her husband.

She waved him off next. “Robbie, I’m _fine_. Oh, Kurt, you’ve met Robert before, yes?”

It was as if all the volume around them was turned down dramatically. Kurt lifted his gaze to Robert’s, who met his evenly. He tried to read something--anything--from his boyfriend’s father’s face. Scorn, disapproval, disgust, indifference, anything. Robert only kept his mouth closed, lifting an eyebrow.

“Yes, I’ve heard so much about you,” Robert said, nodding. And then Kurt caught it, the tiniest, microscopic of smiles, coupling with the faintest of warmth behind those hard eyes. Relief flooded his chest, and Kurt found himself smiling a bit in return.

Blaine’s grip on his hand loosened. “Only good things, trust me,” he added to Kurt, and the group shared a laugh. Then Blaine took focus to the last remaining member to Kurt’s left. “Also, I’d like you to meet Max.”

Robert and Pam’s attention went to Kurt’s other hand, and Kurt looked down, expecting to find his son staring curiously or not even paying mind at all. Instead, he was surprised to see Max trying to hide behind Kurt’s leg, clinging to the fabric of Kurt’s pants, barely peeking out at Blaine’s parents.

“Maxie?” Kurt asked, trying to step aside to reveal the boy, but Max only followed and returned to his hiding spot. “What is it?”

“Oh, is he shy?” Pam asked.

“No,” Blaine said. “I mean, not around…”

“Is everything okay?” Kurt whispered, squatting down to his level, keeping a hand on Max’s back. He didn’t understand why he was acting this way, or why he continued to use Kurt as a shield, occasionally peering up with timid eyes.

Kurt followed his gaze, realizing it was directed at one person in particular. One who was just as confused as Kurt and Blaine, glancing at his wife and then back at Max.

Robert met Kurt’s eyes, and there was clear bewilderment there. A man with such grace and authority, who could silence a room with his presence, looked genuinely hurt a child was frightened of him.

Standing, Kurt excused himself, thanking the Andersons for such a lovely party before lifting Max up and settling him against his hip, heading to a quiet place. Blaine followed close, pointing out an empty corner.

“Maxie, what it it? What’s wrong?” Kurt asked once they were away from the crowd, trying to meet Max’s eyes. His son either looked down or over Kurt’s shoulder, watching the snowflakes fall from a nearby window.

“Was it my dad?” Blaine whispered, comforting Max by rubbing his back.

Kurt shrugged, equally puzzled. Robert was civilized, perhaps giving off a more dominating aura than other guests, but acting no differently than the others they’ve met tonight.

“I wanna go home,” Max muttered, eyes locked on Kurt’s tie rather than his face. “I don’t like the scary man.”

At least that answered Blaine’s question. Kurt saw a flicker of sadness flash across Blaine’s face, and he himself felt horrible. The night was going so well, and Blaine only wanted to introduce them to his parents, and now this…

“Max,” Blaine said, still soothing his back. “That scary man was my dad, and I can tell you he is not scary at all.”

Max lifted his head and blinked, obviously waiting for a further explanation.

“Sure he’s kind of...intimidating. He’s the boss of a lot of people here. But did you know when I was your age, he used to burp so loud it would echo around our kitchen?”

Max cracked a smile, fighting back a laugh.

“And he can sing all the songs from _Aladdin_? Even your favorite one, the one Genie sings.”

Max buried his face in Kurt’s shoulder, suppressing a grin.

“And once,” Blaine went on, “we went to Florida for a vacation, and he got chased by seagulls on the beach!”

Max was definitely laughing now, and Kurt felt like chuckling, too. Rich, powerful, Robert Anderson singing _Friend Like Me_ or being attacked by seagulls was silly enough, but to know they were true was absolutely bizarre.

And Blaine was beaming, like a proud son talking about his old man. It was such a pleasant shift from the usual, which involved him discussing Robert like some stoick beast he constantly had to impress.

The night went on, and somehow people still found things to chat about after hours of mingling. They met up with Sam, which excited Max. Kurt and Blaine munched on caviar appetizers curiously, Kurt finding them surprisingly delicious as Max listed to Sam everything he received from Santa.

Yet, the long day continued, and Kurt could feel his body winding down. Blaine’s relatives and friends still wanted to meet and chat with him, and Kurt felt his smiles being more forced and his politeness stretching thin. Blaine took notice, and thankfully was near enough to Cooper to tap his shoulder.

“Hey, I might take Kurt on a tour of the house,” Blaine told his brother. “Mind watching after Max?”

“No problem. In fact, the girls were just going to head to the game room.” Cooper looked over his shoulder. “Sophie? Madeline? C’mere for a sec.”

Kurt lifted his head just in time to see twin girls--both identical with a sparkly bow in their dark brown hair, wearing matching violet dresses and silver Mary Janes, and bearing Cooper’s unimpressed expression--arrive next to their father. They crossed their skinny arms at the same time, studying Kurt up and down before raising their chins.

Blaine’s nieces may look as pretty as their mother, but they certainly had the mind of their father.

“You remember Kurt, right? Your uncle’s boyfriend?” Cooper asked.

They nodded in unison, eyeing Kurt again.

“Well, Kurt has an awesome son named Max, who is only two years younger than you and--” Cooper stopped, craning around to find the boy.

Kurt snapped his head down, wondering if Max was hiding again. Now, his son was just standing frozen at his side, staring unsurely at the girls.

Remembering how Max was comfortable around most adults but wary of children of his own age, Kurt tensed, glancing at Blaine. His boyfriend must be thinking the same as him, for his mouth tightened with worry.

“He can play with us,” said one of them--Kurt guessed Madeline.

“Sure.” Sophie shrugged. “We don’t care.”

Max blinked, apparently surprised. He hesitated before letting go of Kurt’s hand, looking up at his father. Kurt smiled encouragingly and motioned for him to go off and have fun.

Then, Max was smiling--delighted, relieved, toothy and wide. He hurried with the girls, slotting in the middle as they headed out the room, listening to them chat about all the video games their grandparents owned.

Kurt didn’t even notice he was holding his breath. He watched Max until he couldn’t see him anymore, and part of him told him to run after him as a protective instinct, while the other part wanted to leap in celebration. With the two emotions colliding along with the growing exhaustion, Kurt actually felt like he was going to cry, knowing how much his baby was blossoming, spreading his wings.

_Great, if you’re getting emotional over this, there’s no telling what you’ll be like during major milestones, like when he graduates high school or gets married._

Then, Blaine was squeezing his hand, and he finally exhaled. His boyfriend smiled at him, a glint of mischief in his golden eyes. “I was serious about that tour,” he said.

Nodding, Kurt followed him through the throng of people, heading up the grand staircase without ever letting go of his hand.

* * *

“...I still don’t understand why they need so many guest bedrooms. It only makes more work for the maids, in my opinion.”

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head as they wandered down yet another hallway. The rest of the house was significantly quieter than the area of the party, only their conversation sounding off the high walls.

Personally, Blaine was glad they left the party, with the claustrophobic atmosphere and the constant need for attention by pompous relatives and snobby co-workers. Occasionally, Blaine saw the hint of disapproval in their expression, or the way they eyed Kurt suspiciously. When they turned to leave, Blaine caught the whispers behind them.

“ _How_ long have they been together?” “It’s not going to last.” “Please, it’s _Blaine_.”

Although their words made his blood boil, thankfully Kurt must have been out of earshot to hear, for his boyfriend made no comment on the matter. At least they were by themselves now.

“Where are we now?” Kurt asked, bumping his shoulder against Blaine’s.

Blaine couldn’t hide his broad grin. Really, the main reason he even thought of showing Kurt his parent’s winter home was this certain section. He had save the best for last.

“Have any guesses?” Blaine asked, reaching the end of the hallway and placing a hand on the french door’s handle, its square windows covered with curtains.

“Well…” Kurt rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “Let’s see. I’ve seen the library, the music room, the study, the room with that huge movie theater thing…”

Blaine laughed, knowing Kurt would probably list everything, so he pushed open the door and stepped inside.

“...and let’s not forget the basketball court-- _whoa._ ”

Blaine was smiling, closing the door behind them and holding his chin up a little. His boyfriend was gaping, absolutely speechless. Sure, it wasn’t as elegant as the dining room or gardens, but the look on Kurt’s face said it all.

The Anderson’s indoor pool was simple enough: large and rectangular, the water a shimmering and calm blue. It smelled like chlorine, and white tile framed around it, polished and shiny. Tall windows lined the two opposite walls, the black night contrasting the room’s bright lighting. However, if looked closely, faint specks of snowflakes could be seen falling outside.

“It’s _huge_ ,” Kurt said, his voice echoing back and forth across the room.

“Mhmm,” Blaine agreed, turning to face him, slowly sliding his hands on either side of Kurt’s waist. “And it’s the end of our tour.”

“Oh, I see.” Kurt smiled, tearing his eyes away from the grandeur of the pool and winding his arms around Blaine’s shoulders. “It was very lovely.”

“Very,” Blaine repeated, gaze trained on Kurt’s mouth.

“We better be heading back,” Kurt added.

“Absolutely,” Blaine said before closing the space and locking their lips.

He felt Kurt inhale deeply through his nose as they gradually pressed closer together, Blaine’s hands sliding around Kurt’s back and his tongue slipping past Kurt’s lips. Even though everything was quiet around them, all he could hear was how his heart pounded in his chest to his ears.

Kurt was the first to break, ready to suggest they should leave again, when Blaine whispered, “Let’s take a swim.”

His boyfriend’s eyes shot open, wider than ever. “What?”

“C’mon,” Blaine smiled mischievously, taking both of Kurt’s hands and leading him away from the door. “Let’s be reckless.”

“I-- _Blaine_ ,” Kurt glanced back at the exit, and then at Blaine. “We can’t just--I’m wearing my own custom-made suit!”

“I never said we’d have clothes on, baby.” With seeing blush bloom across Kurt’s cheeks, Blaine winked and pecked a quick kiss.

“Blaine,” Kurt said again, watching Blaine tug free his bowtie. “Someone could...see us--”

Blaine interrupted with stepping forward, pulling him by his plum tie slightly to whisper in his ear, “That’s why it’s called being reckless.”

Kurt snorted. “Going skinny dipping in your parent’s indoor pool is now reckless?”

“When there’s a Christmas party still going on?” Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt’s jaw. “Yes.”

Kurt whimpered, pushing Blaine’s hands away from unlacing his tie and doing it himself. Blaine grinned, hurriedly shrugging out of his suit jacket.

He was first to strip off all his clothing, for Kurt was keen on placing his neatly on a nearby pool chair. The anticipation made Blaine’s pulse spike, and seeing Kurt barefoot in just his boxers and undershirt only made it increase.

Hooking his thumbs under his underwear’s waistband, Blaine pushed down his final layer of clothing and tossed it next to his shoes, not even waiting for Kurt to turn around before he spun and ran to the pool’s edge, jumping in with a large splash.

When he emerged, wiping water from his eyes, he heard a ringing, “ _Blaine!_ ” followed by musical giggles.

The pool was deep enough he could stand on his feet and his collarbone would barely peek over the surface. He grinned up at the sight of Kurt, poised at the pool’s edge in only his blue boxers, a look of amusement and disbelief on his face.

“Care to join me?” Blaine asked cheekily.

He caught Kurt frequently glancing back at the door as he stripped away his underwear and place it with his other clothing. Blaine figured he too should be worried about the chance of someone barging in, but it was hard to focus on anything when his boyfriend’s bare ass was in perfect view.

“You’re so ridiculous,” Kurt muttered as he walked back to the edge, studying the depth. Blaine just laughed, and then yelped when Kurt jumped in next to him, drenching him in water.

“Oh, my god!” Kurt mouth was hanging open as he pushed away his drooping bangs. Droplets fell from his hair and nose. “Blaine Anderson, I’ll never forgive you for this.”

Blaine was too busy swimming forward and wrapping his arms around Kurt’s torso, his eyes hooded and his mouth set in a smirk. “You’re welcome,” he said.

“Yeah, thanks a lot--” Kurt began flatly, but was stopped when Blaine brought him in for another deep kiss.

Everything came to a standstill. Gradually, Blaine coaxed his mouth open, teasing his tongue in. Kurt’s perfect, wet mouth slid against his, tasting faintly like chlorine. Tingles traveled all the way to his toes when Kurt’s teeth dragged his bottom lip. Soft gasps echoed all around them.

Water lapped around their bodies as their hands moved to grip at skin or soaked hair. His boyfriend’s was falling out of its coif, releasing from its stiff hairspray. Blaine felt it glide through his fingers easily, and sighed against his lips when doing so.

Kurt’s anxious muscles slowly relaxed at Blaine’s touch, and soon enough he was pushing Blaine, moaning against his mouth and backing him to the wall.

“Kur--” Blaine tried to say when his shoulders knocked against the rough tile, but his boyfriend was sucking on his bottom lip, pressing their naked bodies together until Blaine could barely breathe. It’s not like that mattered, not when Kurt’s thigh was slotted between his legs and he felt the brush of his half-hard cock.

He groaned, the water splashing in small waves as Kurt attached his mouth to Blaine’s neck, pressing kiss after kiss against his wet skin. He blindly fumbled to grab a handful of Kurt’s ass, feeling a moan vibrate against his jaw.

Their breathing was heavy and the temperature was significantly warmer, and while Blaine wanted to slow down and perhaps make this more romantic, however Kurt started grinding against his hip and suddenly his brain short-circuited.

“Blaine, B-Blaine, oh, god--” Kurt panted into his ear, clutching on to his bicep and shoulder, nails biting into the skin. His face was entirely flushed and his mouth was parted, his eyes so dark it almost matched the windows behind them.

Blaine did have enough control to remember his plan and released his hand, placing it on Kurt’s hip, stilling him for a moment. “H-hold on,” he said, blinking a few times to regain focus. Kurt whined, and Blaine quickly continued, “Let me take care of you, baby.”

At Kurt’s momentary confusion, Blaine switched positions in a flash, having Kurt against the pool’s wall and kissing him once before helping him move to sit at the edge, his legs bent over the lip with only his lower calves submerged.

Blaine took a moment to actually look at his boyfriend above him. Pale and soaking wet, water dripping from his hair and running down his arms and torso, creating puddles on the tile. His chest was still heaving, his nipples stiff and his abs even more prominent with how he sat. His face was pink and his pupils blown. Blaine had never seen anything so beautiful.

“You’re gorgeous,” Blaine murmured, pushing apart Kurt’s knees to kiss his inner thigh. Kurt shivered, and Blaine went on, barely realizing what he was saying. “God, I love you. You’re the most amazing, stunning,” he skimmed his mouth on the opposite leg, planting kiss after kiss, “sexy, irresistible--”

Kurt was snickering.

Pulling back, Blaine frowned. This wasn’t giggles from oversensitivity or anything of that nature. No, this was pure _chuckling_ , as if Kurt was amused.

“What?” Blaine asked defensively.

Kurt shook his head, hiding a smile behind a hand. “Nothing, nothing,” he said, then dropped the hand and looked at Blaine adoringly. “You’re...you’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

“When you…” Kurt sighed, reaching to cup Blaine’s face, running a thumb over his cheek, “babble like that.”

Blaine blinked. “I do not _babble_.”

“You do, too. It’s really cute.”

Now Blaine was sputtering. _Cute_ was not what he was aiming for in this situation. He saw Kurt’s soft smile, aware that his heart was swelling from that look. “I promise I won’t be saying a thing anytime soon,” he said, purposely lowering his voice a few notches.

“Oh, then please continue,” Kurt replied, spreading his knees apart farther.

Standing straighter, he collected himself and got back in the groove, snaking his arms around Kurt’s waist to pull him closer to the edge. “Blaine,” Kurt began, his fingers loosening Blaine’s hair, rubbing against his scalp. His expression returned to the previous anxiousness. “What if someone--”

He was cut off by his own gasp, eyes squeezing shut when Blaine wrapped his fist around his length, steadily stroking it and smirking up at him.

Blaine watched Kurt try to quiet his moans by biting down on his lip, but Blaine would only twist his hand a certain way and there it was. Kurt’s jaw hung and a low, a gut-deep moan resonated off the walls. His fingers dug into Blaine’s hair, the other hand curled against the tile.

It was then Blaine opened his own mouth, licking a stripe from the base to the tip, and hearing Kurt groan above him before he sunk down.

Kurt’s fingers _tugged_ at his hair, holding it in a fist as he gritted his teeth and let out a broken groan. Humming, Blaine teased his tongue around the head, keeping one hand on Kurt’s thigh, feeling it tense under his palm.

His mouth slid down the shaft, sucking back up in the way he knew would make Kurt’s toes curl. He caught a glimpse of them in the hazy water, and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Mmm... _oh, fuck_ ,” Kurt exhaled, his eyes closing and his blush growing brighter. His hips jolted slightly when Blaine licked at the slit, cleaning away the pre-come before going down again, hollowing his cheeks and eliciting more high-pitched moans.

Blaine’s own cock was hardening, and he found himself letting go of Kurt’s thigh, diving his hand underwater to jerk himself while bobbing faster. Kurt was gasping repeatedly and pulling his curls so hard it hurt.

“Oh, god, Blaine-- _Blaine_ ,” Kurt stammered out, his face shining with sweat and his bangs flopping over his forehead. His ears were blazing red, and Blaine knew full well what that meant.

He didn’t need to hear a warning. Blaine was prepared when Kurt came, swallowing diligently as Kurt tipped his head back and shouted so loud his voice rang in echoes across the room.

Blaine stroked himself thrice more, removing his mouth and groaning against his boyfriend’s thigh as the heat snapped, releasing so hard he almost saw stars.

It took a moment for them to collect their breathing. Kurt relaxed his grasp on Blaine’s hair, petting the curls gently. Blaine eventually lifted his gaze, finding bright blue eyes staring fondly down at him, a sedated smile settled on well-kissed lips.

“Did you like your present?” Blaine asked, grinning.

Kurt’s eyes widened. “Wh--Blaine!”

“What?” Blaine laughed.

“We agreed no presents!”

“Are you complaining?” he asked, fingertips skimming up Kurt’s leg and finding their way to his ass once again, rubbing his thumb against the plump flesh.

Kurt was blushing and rolling his eyes and obviously trying to _not_ smile. “No, I’m not complaining.”

“Love you.”

“I love you, too,” Kurt sighed before eyeing Blaine. “Shall we return to the party now?”

“I could stay here forever,” Blaine told him, resting his cheek to Kurt’s knee.

“Blaine, sweetie,” Kurt grimaced. “You’re swimming in your own come.”

Blaine froze, detaching from Kurt once noticing the predicament.  “Yeah, you’re right.” He heaved himself out of the pool, shaking his head and spraying droplets on Kurt, making him squeal.

Standing, Blaine was about to walk to their clothing, wondering where the towels were and making a mental note to tip the pool cleaners, when a hand touched his cheek. He turned and was met with a soft kiss, one so sweet he felt like he was floating, swirling around like all those snowflakes outside.

“Merry Christmas,” Kurt said to him, smiling in such a bashful and loving way, his eyes glittering when they met Blaine’s.

And Blaine smiled back, just as bright. “Merry Christmas, darling.”

* * *

The bedroom was dark and calming. Fluffy pillows were under his head and sheets twisted around his legs. Yet, when Blaine woke, he was alone.

He reached out, ready to feel a warm body sound asleep next to him. However, when all he met was air, his eyes blinked open, and he rolled to his back.

Twinkling lights from nearby skyscrapers brought little lighting to the room. Blaine sat up a little, eventually becoming fully awake. While part of him was figuring out why faint cheering sounded in the distance, he was mostly aware of the figure standing next to the large windows.

Kurt’s back was to him as his arms were crossed over his bare chest, watching the city below. Heartbeat skipping, Blaine just stared at him for a moment, drinking in his boyfriend’s silhouette. Hair loose and a bit unkempt. The broadness of his shoulders and the curve of his back, all the way down to where his boxer-briefs were hugging his ass in all the right ways. Completed with strong, long, legs leading down to bare feet.

There were no words in any language to describe how breathtaking he was.

It was insane, to think how long they’ve been together and still Blaine was stunned by Kurt. His everything--his thoughts and passions and talents. The way he surprised Blaine every day, keeping him on his toes. How one tilt of his head or one sly smile could make Blaine crazy, desperate to kiss and touch and see Kurt’s ears go red before he became undone under his fingertips.

He was so different than the man who ran into him so long ago, drenching cola over his shirt and apologizing with embarrassment. Then again, Blaine wasn’t the same cocky and careless man anymore, either.

_A lot can change when you’ve fallen this hard in love._

Kurt turned away from the window, snapping Blaine out of his thoughts. He smiled, nodding at the dazzling city. “Happy New Year,” he said softly.

The clock on the nightstand read 12:00 on the dot. Blaine’s shoulders relaxed and a corner of his mouth tugged upwards. It was officially the new year.

They had tried to stay up together. Max was determined to watch the Times Square ball drop like everyone else. Kurt complied, although with his tone of voice Blaine was sure he wasn’t convinced.

After playing games and watching Max’s pick of movies (first _Tarzan_ and then _The Iron Giant_ ), the boy had fallen fast asleep in his Darth Vader pajamas, slumped against his father, his stuffed Dalmatian and Captain America shield cradled in his arms as Lacy snoozed beside him. It had only been nine o’clock, and Blaine carried Max’s cargo as Kurt carried Max to his bedroom, tucking him in and whispering how they’ll see him next year.

The night was young, and Kurt had asked Blaine if he still wanted to go to Sam’s New Year’s party. Blaine replied with a head shake while sliding his hand under Kurt’s shirt.

And the rest was history.

Now, with Times Square littering with confetti and celebration, Kurt bent down to grab his heap of pajama pants off the floor. Then, the idea flashed in Blaine’s mind. He hastily reached over to his nightstand, opening the drawer and digging past the piles of notepads, books, and other supplies.

“I almost want to wake up Max,” Kurt was saying, the mattress suddenly dipping. “Just to show him the view. It’s crazy down there.”

Blaine whipped back around to face him, hiding the found item in a fist behind his back. Kurt gave him a weird look where he sat across from Blaine, one leg tucked under the other. Blaine sort of chuckled, butterflies fluttering from his stomach to the top of his chest.

He’s dreamt of this, planned every word he would say, prepared every action and reaction. With the reality actually happening, suddenly nerves and excitement crashed upon him all at once.

“When Max is older we can take him to Times Square,” Blaine blurted. “So he can see it all first hand.”

Kurt laughed, shaking his head a little. “Oh, yeah. And you can save us a front row seat, Mr. Anderson.”

They were talking about the future. Kurt was mentioning it so casually, like it was so obvious, so meant to be. Blaine wetted his lips, holding the item tighter.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked, his voice sounding millions of miles away.

Blaine blinked, sitting up straighter and realizing he was only in his underwear. He and Kurt were both shirtless, with mussed hair and wrinkled bed sheets around them. It was mostly dark, the fireworks from outside highlighting Kurt’s features--his skin, his cheekbones, his concerned blue eyes.  

Maybe it wasn’t the most romantic setting. Maybe it didn’t have candles or roses or fancy suits. But Blaine had never felt more in love, more sure about anything else than what was right in front of him, who tilted his head and watched Blaine carefully.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Blaine said, his posture relaxing as he exhaled. He shifted to kneel, the sheets shuffling under his legs. Kurt kept staring at him, as if waiting for a further explanation. His gaze was trained on Blaine’s face and not where the item was moving to Blaine’s front, hiding between both his hands.

“Um,” Blaine said. Not the most graceful way to start such a moment. “Kurt, I want to tell you something.”

“Okay.”

“Well,” What was that speech again? Blaine wasn’t thinking about memorized lines. Everything was spilling out right from his heart, his very soul, as if his body couldn’t contain such powerful emotions. “As you were standing there, watching the celebration, I was thinking about when we first met. You were a waiter and I was heading to another one of my father’s galas. I helped Max with his dinosaur coloring page and you spilled drinks all over my suit.”

Kurt smiled, his dimples showing. “Best mistake of my life.”

Instantly, a lump caught in Blaine’s throat at those words. God, he couldn’t cry _now..._ “Trust me, I wasn’t upset.” He laughed. “Because, the second I saw you, I...I knew something. Like, I knew you were someone special, someone I had to see again. And again and again and again.” He laughed again, squeaky at the end. “I don’t even know if my mind realized it was love at first sight yet.”

Kurt ducked his head, still smiling.

“And then I found out what an incredible person you are,” Blaine continued. “How compassionate and talented and brave you are. And, I don’t even know how to explain it, but...you just brought that _spark_ back into my life, Kurt. Like, I was just floating along, doing whatever, and then you showed up and suddenly I was living again. Does that make sense?”

 Kurt’s mouth was parted, and he looked a bit speechless. Fireworks continued going off, popping faintly, flashing Kurt’s pale skin red and blue and yellow.

Blaine’s palms were sweating as he grasped the item even tighter. “I hope you know how much I love you. And Max. Sometimes so much it _aches_ , in the most amazing way. I never pictured my life to be this way and now it is and I am so lucky to be sharing it with you two.”

“Blaine…” Kurt whispered.

“I know you’ve been through a lot. More than anyone should go through,” Blaine told him. “And you’ve been so strong and selfless and…” His words caught, his vision misting. He brought his eyes up, locking Kurt’s gaze. “You are my best friend, Kurt,” Blaine said, voice gone surprisingly soft in an already silent room. “I have never wanted anything more than to be with you, to keep loving you more and more every day, for the rest of eternity.”

He brought his hands up, revealing the little black box. Kurt audibly gasped, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. Blaine inhaled, barely focusing on anything except his hammering pulse and the warm temperature, sending goosebumps across his arms.

Swallowing, he opened the lid, lifting his head up and looking at Kurt’s shocked face, his heart swelling with nothing but pure devotion and love.

“Will you marry me?”

Later, Blaine will be able to recall every detail in those few seconds. The way his entire body waited with anticipation, his brain locking down on hearing for Kurt’s answer. How his lungs forgot how to function, how his hands surprisingly remained steady. The cool contact of air on his bare skin, the feel of the cotton sheets still twisted under his knees.

Even the party outside took a beat to wait for his voice. Kurt’s eyes were bright, shining, and fixed on the silver band. His chest rose in an inhale, and stayed like that as his hands lowered from his mouth, pressing together and under his chin. He wetted his lips, a smile breaking across his face, stretching until his eyes were squinting and teardrops spilled over.

He nodded, slowly and then quicker, breathing out, “Yes. Yes.”

Blaine forgot how to move. His mouth fell open, and he didn’t even know how to handle all the joy bubbling up his chest, for the only thing his mind seemed to logically think of was to kiss his teary-eyed boyfriend.

So he did just that. Cupping a hand around the back of his neck, Blaine brought him in for a kiss. More so crashing their lips together as Kurt clung to him, hurrying up to his knees so he could press their bodies as close as possible.

The only reason it ended was because Kurt was giggling and Blaine realized he was crying. Kurt pecked his lips a few times before wiping his cheeks, and then wiping his own, blush high and smile incredibly wide.

“Really?” Blaine asked, making sure it wasn’t too good to be true.

Kurt nodded again. “Yes,” he repeated.

Blaine could soar to the heavens and cheer across the sky, but instead he surged in and kissed Kurt once more.

They eventually remembered Blaine still held the ring box. They both laughed together, and Blaine took the band and slipped it on to Kurt’s finger, rubbing his thumb across the cool silver and then warm skin.

Kurt’s breath stuttered, and Blaine looked up at him. His boyfriend-- _fiancé_ \--was thinking intently, his eyebrows furrowed slightly. Right as Blaine was ready to ask, Kurt snapped his eyes to him.

“ _Box_ ,” he said. “This is the box Max kept talking about!”

“Huh?”

“Oh, Blaine.” Kurt shook his head, smiling giddily and looping his arms around Blaine’s shoulders, kissing him sweetly. He hummed before pulling away. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“We’re going to get married.”

“We are.” Blaine then hesitated. “You’re...okay with that?”

Kurt’s been married before, and it didn’t end well at all. Nothing but pain and regret and suffering lead from it.

However, Kurt expression wasn’t scared or unsure like Blaine feared. No, Kurt was beaming, glowing with adoration and certainty.

“Absolutely,” he answered. “There’s nothing I’d love more.”

No more coherent thoughts seemed to form, not when Blaine could feel Kurt’s ring against his neck and they joined their lips together once again, toppling backwards onto the bed, grasping and fumbling and laughing happily as the last of New Year’s fireworks burst in the distance, lighting the room in hazy yet vibrant colors.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 21! Meaning only one more chapter left, aw :( Still, thank you to all those commenters and readers. This story now has over 11,000 hits, can you believe it??

Tighten the knot. Loosen it a bit. Study the reflection. Decide it’s not right. Undo the entire thing. Start over.

Kurt went through this cycle multiple times in the last five minutes. It was his fault, requesting to be completely alone before the ceremony began. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he’d be only with his thoughts, that were running rampant as it was. Fixing his appearance had been a pleasant distraction; however, it didn’t stop his shaky hands.

 _Married_.

He was getting married today.

 _Again_ , he reminded himself, chewing his bottom lip as he tucked the ends of his black tie in the proper place. Except this time it was everything he had dreamed. There was no rush, no vows being hastily read at a courthouse. This engagement took time, the wedding was planned carefully. And the result was everything he could have hoped for.

Then _why_ was he so nervous?

He tugged his jacket straight, squaring his shoulders and looking at himself in the dressing room’s mirror. Months were spent to make this suit--designed by himself, of course. His manager Jasmine put in her own advice, such as the barely-there pattern hidden in the black fabric. She was amazed by his newest designs, constantly telling him he was the best worker they’d had, that he was so good, _Vogue.com_ might even sweep him up.

A smile twitched at his lips, and Kurt finally relaxed his shoulders.

Maybe he wasn’t _nervous_ -nervous. It was more of an excited-nervous, the sensation he had before he performed _The Indigo Lover_ on opening night. His heart wouldn’t stop pounding in his rib cage, thrumming to the beat of anticipation, thrill, and above all, love.

 _Blaine_.

He was going to marry Blaine.

Since he couldn’t run a hand through his perfectly swooped hair, Kurt turned away from the mirror and stared at the rest of the small room. There wasn’t much, just a vanity, a clothing rack, and a cute little sofa. It was quaint and quiet, only the faint bustle of the wedding party trying to rally everything together heard on the other side of the walls.

Right as Kurt was ready to begin pacing, a tiny knock came from the door. He snapped his head towards it, watching it slowly creak open and expecting Rachel to peek in with her wide smile, announcing it was time.

However, the head that poked through was rounder with peering blue eyes.

“Daddy?” Max asked.

Kurt’s posture eased immediately, and a gentle smile naturally grew on his lips. “Hey, Maxie.”

His son closed the door as Kurt approached him, squatting down to his level. Just like everyone else today, Max looked adorably handsome. His tuxedo was fitted and so far spotless. His shoes were shiny; his tie was a teal blue. Even his brown hair was combed and styled formally.

“Daddy,” Max said again. “Blaine wants to know if you’re okay but he said not to tell you that he was asking.”

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head slightly. _Of course_ his fiancé would be wondering. Surprisingly, Blaine had been more of a groomzilla than Kurt. Every detail Blaine worried about, from the reception music to the bridesmaid’s hairstyles to the type of silverware the guests would use versus the head table. He even was stern on having them not see each other all day until the ceremony began.

Yet, they didn’t traditionally separate the night before, which Kurt was more than grateful for. He didn’t know if he could survive the evening alone with pre-wedding jitters.

“Future Mr. Anderson-Hummel,” Blaine had murmured after their ‘wedding night practice,’ bringing Kurt’s left hand to his lips and showering his knuckles with kisses. Kurt had never seen him so happy as he was during their engagement. As if just the idea of being husbands sent Blaine into an adoring state.

 _Husbands_.

Blaine was going to be his husband. And so, so soon.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Kurt told Max, absently brushing off invisible specks of dust on his shoulders. Every person expected his son to be the ring bearer, but Kurt had other plans. Max was chosen to be his Best Man. No other person in the world was worthy of that position than him. “And...how’s Blaine doing?”

The six-year-old sighed loudly, propping his fists on his hips. “He won’t stop walking around the dressing room. Sam keeps telling him to calm down and then Blaine will say he _is_ calm but I think he’s lying.”

Kurt’s heart swelled uncomfortably. “Do you...think he’s nervous?” Wouldn’t that be something? Blaine, of all people, getting cold feet on the big day.

Max tapped his chin. “No. I think he just really, _really_ wants to get married. Like right now. Why are we waiting so long? Everyone’s sitting down.”

Kurt laughed, feeling weight lift off his chest. His fiancé shared his excited-nerves. Or more so, the ‘really, _really_ wants to get married’ nerves. “I needed time to myself.”

“Why?”

“I was...nervous. But a good nervous.”

“Like how Blaine is nervous?”

“Mhmm.”

“But you guys love each other,” Max pointed out. “Why would you be nervous?”

He hesitated, knowing it would be too complicated to explain. Yes, Kurt loved Blaine. So much, that at times it almost scared him. Restless nights right before the wedding had him waking up, trembling over nightmares of the wedding falling to chaos or their marriage turning out to be like his and Liam’s. So many preposterous thoughts, but it all lead up to the fact Kurt didn’t want to mess this up. Besides Max, Blaine was the most important person in his life. He couldn’t lose him.

“I’m over it now,” Kurt replied, shrugging a shoulder. “Now I’m just super duper excited.”

Max broke out in a grin. “Me too. Jack said that the Best Man is the most important job ever.”

“And who’s Jack?”

“He’s my best friend. He plays with me and Catherine at mentoring because his mentor is Catherine’s best friend and they like Legos too.”

Kurt choked up at the words ‘ _best friend_.’ Everything really was turning out for the better, and Max was slowly edging out of his shell. They would be okay.

The door opened again, causing them both to look up. And again, it wasn’t Rachel. Kurt’s Maid of Honor wouldn’t be giving them such a face of annoyance.

“Are you done with your pre-gay wedding meditation?” Santana asked, glaring at Kurt. “Because I think your husband-to-be is going to pee himself if we don’t get going.”

Max giggled as Kurt stood, brushing his pants and shooting her a look. He and Blaine agreed there would be two Best Men and two Maids of Honor, one for each of them. Sam and Max, of course, and then Rachel and Tina. It was obvious Santana was bitter about her snub for the role, for she constantly nagged Kurt during the engagement with arguments such as, “Who sacrificed their apartment to babysit Hummel Junior as you went and banged the miniature version of Clark Kent? Yeah, that’s right. Me.”

Yet, she still stood in a sweetheart neckline bridesmaid dress, the color the same teal blue as Max’s tie. Her dark hair was curled and tucked up in a braid. Her manicured fingernails tapped against the door frame impatiently.

“Yes, I’m ready,” Kurt told her. Max quickly darted out the door, and Santana gestured for him to hurry up as well.

Kurt caught one last glance of himself in the mirror. He didn’t look anxious anymore, there were no more worry lines etched in his face. Instead, he finally appeared at ease. Calm, collected, and like he told Santana--ready.

God, he was _so_ ready to marry Blaine.

* * *

“Ladies, gentlemen!” Cooper declared as he stood from his seat, clinking his champagne glass with a spoon. “If I may have your attention!”

The Andersons spared no expense to their son’s wedding. Both the ceremony and reception were held in one of their hotel’s grand ballrooms. Chandeliers strung with tiny, twinkling lights shined above their heads. Countless circular tables scattered about the floor, each with pure white tablecloths, tall and extravagant centerpieces, and chairs draped in sashes. The head table’s long rectangle faced the guests, bearing even more lavish centerpieces and more champagne. Large windows opened up to balconies, fluttering curtains and bringing in warm sunlight.

The guests--from Blaine’s relatives to their close friends to Robert Anderson’s dearest business partners to Burt and Carole--all quieted down, shifting in their seats to face the head table. Like Santana, Cooper was utterly shocked to hear he was turned down such a high position in his baby brother’s wedding. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop him from making a memorable speech.

Kurt turned away from telling Max not to play with all his silverware, looking to his right where Cooper stood, waiting for the room to become silent. He then felt a warm hand grasp his, a cool metal touching his skin.

Smiling, Kurt squeezed his husband’s hand back, his heart skipping at that thought.

Blaine was officially his husband. And god, did he look beautiful. His tux was black and tailored to perfection, the white rose corsage pinned to his lapel. He even bore a black bowtie, ever so classy. But none of that could compare to how his brilliant hazel eyes sparkled the entire day, from the moment when they met at the end of the aisle and he first saw Kurt.

Blaine did give him a look that clearly said, _Oh, boy._ Kurt chuckled quietly and told him to shush, for he wanted to hear what Cooper had to say.

“Years ago,” Cooper said to the crowd, “I had my own wedding. It was probably just as beautiful as this one, if not more.” Kurt saw Blaine roll his eyes and he bit back a laugh. “And there is one thing I’ll always remember my brother Blaine saying. He was standing next to me and our father, waiting to take pictures, and he announced to Dad that he would _never_ get married.”

The guests laughed, and Blaine glared at his brother as Kurt held his hand tighter, covering his giggles with his free hand.

“But,” Cooper lifted a finger until everyone became quiet again, “as we all believed this to be true, Blaine was always a stubborn fellow. Once he met Kurt and grew up a bit, got his head screwed on right, I knew his ideology would be turned around.” Cooper smiled warmly at Blaine, lifting his champagne glass a little higher. “So here’s to you and Kurt, little brother. I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

The guests followed suit before downing their drinks, and Blaine returned the smile to his brother. Cooper winked, then shouted to the crowd, “So let’s get this party started, right?”

Even though the entire ballroom erupted in action--classical music starting, the caterers carrying silver trays of food, and people chatting among themselves--Kurt actually felt like he was in a rare bubble of tranquility, with only his husband and their joined hands.

“You okay?” Blaine asked, leaning in a little.

Kurt sighed, both airy and happy. “I couldn’t be better.”

Max’s shell-breaking began with Blaine’s nieces, and now showed no difference. The girls loved having the younger boy in tow. They both promptly grabbed each one of his hands to lead him to the dance floor, where once the meal was over an upbeat tempo started playing. The three linked hands in a circle and spun in the center of the floor, giggling and squealing and bringing in _aww_ ’s from watching adults. Sophie and Madeline wore matching flower girl dresses, their hair falling out from their braids. Max’s jacket was unbuttoned, but Kurt didn’t mind, not when he saw the wide, bright smile stretching his son’s face.

During his and Blaine’s first dance, Kurt’s joy was so overwhelming he felt as if his heart might swell out of his rib cage. Blaine chose the song, and pleaded for Kurt to trust him to keep it a surprise.

Once Blaine’s hand was in his and the other was settled around his waist, the first note sounded through the speakers, and Kurt’s curious smile fell. He stared at Blaine, shocked to the point he couldn’t move. Blaine simply hummed, and gently led him in the first step.

“I can’t believe you,” Kurt whispered as they continued to sway, cheeks brushing against each other’s. Everyone was watching, taking pictures or, in Rachel’s case, placing a hand over her chest and tearing up. “You truly outdid yourself, Mr. Anderson.”

“Anderson- _Hummel_ ,” Blaine replied, voice filled with delight. His nose nudged against Kurt’s jaw, and then his lips brushed his ear. “ _So come on and give me the chance...to prove I am the one who can...walk that mile…_ ”

“ _Blaine_.” Kurt’s smile was so wide his cheeks hurt.

“ _Until the end starts…_ ”

“I love you.”

“Mmm, I love you, too.” Blaine pulled back, only enough so his face was less than an inch from Kurt’s. “I keep thinking this is a dream,” he admitted, so softly only Kurt could hear. “That someone’s going to pinch me and I’m going to wake up back where I was before I met you. Alone and stupid and...alone.”

Kurt lowered his gaze. _Alone_. Before Blaine he had Max, who he’d given his heart and entire world to. So he wasn’t alone in that extent, but that didn’t exactly fill the ache in his chest. The hollowness of intimate love, of promising forever with someone. Yet, after the divorce and his life transforming into a hectic mess, he figured he wasn’t meant to have that again.

Just thinking about a life without Blaine was terrifying, an utter nightmare. Even during the months leading up to the wedding, where there were days brimming with stress and extensive planning and decisions Kurt didn’t want to make right then. Where he had those horrible dreams of everything built crumbling to pieces. Times when Blaine would crowd in his space, smother him, and Kurt would snap. They fought and cried, and there was even one point where Kurt almost called everything off, the fear getting the best of him.

Their wedding was in May. Springtime, when flowers were just starting to bloom and blue skies were a promise every day. Santana was more than pleased, for it was plenty of time after her and Brittany’s Valentine’s Day wedding. Blaine was overjoyed, thinking spring meant rebirth, the beginning of their married lives together.

Kurt only thought how it was exactly one year since they ran into each other at Spotlight Diner. One year since their worlds collided and their lives forever changed. It was breathtaking, knowing about all that had changed since then.

And through all the pain, the tears, the doubt, the fear, Kurt knew without question he wouldn’t trade any of it for the world. To know all those hardships lead to where he was right now, swaying in Blaine’s arms, surrounded by friends and family, feeling nothing but happiness and love.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Kurt told him, squeezing their linked hands. “We’re in this forever, just like we promised.”

Blaine’s lips broke out in a grin, and his sparkling eyes returned. “Forever, huh?”

“Actually, according to your proposal, eternity.”

He laughed, chest rumbling against Kurt’s. Kurt joined in, because it was hard to forget that was his _husband’s_ laugh, and he would be hearing it for the rest of his life.

“Hey!” came a voice near their legs. The two snapped out of their little world and looked down, seeing a certain brown-haired boy tug at the ends of their jackets.

Kurt caught a glance of Brittany snickering and Santana slapping her forehead as Rachel and Tina half-rose out of their seats, unsure whether to run and grab Max or to not cause more of a scene. People were chuckling, and Max continued to stare up at them.

“Daddy, guess what?” Max said.

Kurt stifled his own laugh, surprisingly not upset by this turn of events. His husband, however, let his hand fall from Kurt’s waist in order to bend down, hoisting Max up to join them at eye-level.

“Do tell, kiddo,” Blaine said, grasping his and Kurt’s joined hands, apparently having no means of stopping their dance.

Max adjusted comfortably in Blaine’s arm, close enough to his father he could put a hand on his shoulder. “Sophie said we’re gonna be cousins. Is that true?”

Kurt caught Blaine’s gaze, and they both smiled together. Technically, once they’re back from their honeymoon and signed the proper paperwork, that would be legally true.

But, to keep it simple, Kurt nodded. “Yep. We’re all one big family now.”

Max gasped, face lit in delight, and Blaine made that musical laugh again. “Cool! ‘Cause then I said Blaine was my new daddy and that--” He twisted around, pointing off to the table near the edge of dance floor, “Robert was gonna be my new grandpa. And then Madeline said that means I can play video games with them more.”

Robert Anderson, the man who was clearly astonished by the news of his son proposing marriage to his boyfriend. Who requested for them to have the ceremony at the family’s hotel, for ‘business purposes’ he explained, but then enthused with Pam over where certain decorations would look best. Who was actually awkward around Max at first, such a contrasting characteristic to his usual haughty aura. And then Max, who hesitantly approached Robert one evening during a family get-together, politely asking him to fix the strap of his Captain America shield.

Robert, who Kurt saw dabbing his eyes with a tissue during the ‘ _I do’s_.’ There was so much more to him than the man Kurt first encountered at that gala so long ago. He saw hints of Blaine in him, underneath that entire intimidating exterior.

Now, it was Blaine whose own eyes misted at Max’s words. Kurt sighed, unable to hide the smile that he’d been wearing ever since he started walking down the aisle. He tugged Blaine closer, pulling Max in as well, enclosing the three of them in their own little world as they continued swaying slowly, Adele’s voice fading in the background.

Kurt didn’t mind, for all he cared about was his two boys, who were all smiles and bliss and filling his heart with a warmth too intricate and strong to put a name on, but did make him know one thing for sure.

That ache in his chest was finally whole.

* * *

Blaine cried during their wedding night.

It shocked Kurt, the immediate thought being, _Oh god, did I hurt him? What’s wrong?_ He cupped his husband’s face, brushing the stray tears with his thumb pads, unsure what to say.

Their suite was luxurious, with a gorgeous view of the dark glittering bay. They had been so exhausted after the wedding, that they leisurely stripped their clothing and fell backwards onto the gigantic bed, unable to fight back giggles for at least five minutes.

Then, right as Kurt was about to suggest they should shower, for the smell of champagne and sweat clung to his skin, Blaine’s mouth connected to his, and nothing else mattered.

Except, how after newly formed sweat shined their skin and come dried on their bellies  as Blaine’s cock softened against his, Blaine looked stunned himself as his arms shook and his chest stuttered, tears falling down his cheeks.

“I-I’m sorry,” he breathed out, squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head a little. “I...I don’t--” He stopped, only because his chest heaved and he let out another broken gasp.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Kurt whispered, soothing his thumbs across his cheeks. Their first time having sex as husbands was all slow and lazy, rubbing against each other, trading soft kisses and breathy giggles and plenty of ‘ _I love you’s_.’ After a full day of being surrounded by people, it was finally just them, together and married and desperately in love.

“It’s just...it all crashed upon me,” his husband explained, dropping to his elbows, so close to Kurt that he could see where tears made his eyelashes point like a star. “That...you’re mine.” He smiled bashfully, his sparkling eyes rimmed red and wet, but no less bright. “And I’m yours.”

Kurt couldn’t help but grin in return, his fingertips drifting to the nape of Blaine’s neck, where his carefully styled hair broke loose. “We’re married.”

“It’s _real_ ,” Blaine breathed, eyes wide and in awe. “Can you believe it?”

Could he believe that someone as amazing and kind as Blaine was his husband? Could he believe that by all sorts of fate and destiny, he and Blaine came together and fell in love? That they recited vows to one another and slipped rings on the other’s finger, kissing sweetly and being declared married? That in the morning, Kurt’s and soon Blaine’s son would be off with his grandparents for a vacation in Ohio while the newlyweds headed to Paris for a romantic honeymoon?

Kurt was never one to believe in fairy tales.

It was hard to comprehend he was living in one, and that his prince charming was hovering above him, naked and staring at Kurt like he was the moon and stars.

Ask Kurt one year ago the same question, if he’d believe he would find someone to love him and his son with all their heart and soul, to care for them with all their might. That he’d perform on Broadway and design clothing of his own creation in the meantime. That he’d be truly happy. The Kurt then would have scoffed, replying with, “ _In my dreams_.”

Kurt smiled softly at his husband, pulling him down for an even softer kiss. “Yes, I believe it,” he said. “I believe it, because for once in my life, reality is better than my dreams.”


	22. Epilogue

The room they were assigned to reside in included mostly squares. Square window of an eventless street; grey, square pattern on the carpet; square paintings of wildlife or peaceful landscapes; square, white walls framed in deep, mahogany trim. It gave off the tone of authoritative and orderly. Everything must be square--except for the rectangular meeting table set in the center, and the rectangular door where a police officer was stationed.

The officer was there only for Liam. That was the agreement the court settled on: given his history and threats, a guard would be included in their meeting. He hardly focused on them anyway. Muscled arms bulged from his NYPD uniform, a serious frown stayed on his face. His head was shiny and bald, and a gun was strapped to his belt.

But, it wasn’t the officer or the stiffness of the room that made Kurt sit straight in his wooden chair. His joints felt locked, his jaw hurt from being clamped shut. None of those compared to how tight he held his son’s hand.

Liam sat across from them at the other end of the rectangular table. He looked decent--clean shaven, blue button-up, and no anger in his eyes. In fact, the moment he laid eyes on Max, his entire poise shifted from being small and uncomfortable under the gaze of the officer to pure awe.

It pained Kurt’s heart, knowing those wide, grey eyes and parted mouth belonged to the person Liam was before everything broke to pieces. For that moment, Kurt was reminded of the man he fell in love with so long ago.

At least at this point, Max knew who the man across the table was. He stared at him where he sat next to Kurt. Studying, trying to understand. Kurt saw it plainly from his six-year-old’s face. Which was why Kurt gripped his hand tighter, reassuring.

He and his ex-husband talked over the phone before the grand meeting. First, it was with Kurt agreeing to let it happen; only because Max kept asking about his other dad and Kurt figured it would be best. Maybe not best, but at least a step towards something.

Liam was more than overjoyed, much like how he was before Max was born. Ecstatic, making unrealistic plans. Kurt had to put his foot down and bring him down to earth, explaining the court’s policies. They soon came to a compromise on what to discuss with Max, what to ask, what to answer, and everything in between.

Like with Blaine’s father, Max was timid with Liam’s presence. Especially when he began talking, asking Max easy questions like, “How’s school?” “What’s your favorite subject?” “Do you like sports?” “What are your friends like?”

More often than not, Max would turn to Kurt for an answer, and Kurt would gently try to ease it out of him. “You like art class a lot, don’t you, Maxie?”

Liam would catch Kurt’s gaze, and Kurt knew he was trying. He may not have forgiven him yet, but he knew Liam wanted Max to begin with, desperate to be a father after he and Kurt married. When his plans had crumbled apart and life became too difficult to handle sober, Liam forced his fate upon himself. Now, when he had his head screwed back on, all he wanted was to get a sliver of his dreams back.

But Max was young and confused, and even though Kurt attempted to explain, his son just didn’t understand. Perhaps time would help, considering Kurt agreed to have the three meet up once every year, just to talk and catch up.

Once their time limit was up, the officer escorted the three out, having Kurt and Max exit first and then Liam last. Max wanted to go look at the fish tank in the hall, so Kurt let him go, lingering behind and aware of Liam coming up next to him.

“He’s grown so much,” Liam said, joining Kurt in watching Max gape at the angel fish. “I never...I mean, I’ve imagined him on my own, but I could have never pictured him to look so beautiful.” Kurt heard him sigh contently before saying, “He looks like you.”

Crossing his arms, Kurt finally turned towards him, seeing his ex-husband still watching Max with that gentleness and adoration Kurt wished would have stayed with him forever.

“How are you doing?” Kurt asked softly, noticing the officer continuing to hover nearby. “Any luck with the, um, online dating stuff?”

Liam shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Nope. Everyone I met with didn’t want long term commitment and...I wasn’t into that.” He shrugged, a corner of his mouth lifting upwards. “At least one of us got to live happily ever after.”

“Liam--”

“Listen, I am sorry for all I did to you. And then...my out-of-line attempts to fix everything. I’ve been talking to a therapist, and I really feel like I’m actually getting things right with my life, I know now...it’ll never be with you. Or Max.” His smile turned sad, and before Kurt would speak he continued, “And knowing I at least have this small connection with him, I’m okay with that. You guys are better off, I can see that now.”

Kurt exhaled, shoulders relaxing for the first time since their meeting began. “Thank you.”

Max giggled at the striped fish darting behind the glass. The two men shared smiles. Kurt felt at ease, surprisingly. Never could he have pictured his ex-husband and Max’s first encounter to go smoothly, even if there was still work to do.

But, then again, his life seemed to be full of surprises.

* * *

 _The Anderson Suites_ grand ballroom was converted into the finest dining center for its finest guests. Celebrities, ambassadors, heirs to corporations, and multimillionaires all gathered around the circular tables. Chatting among themselves, they raised champagne glasses to their lips, silently wondering why in the world a stage was set up at the far end.

Blaine, fully aware he was a nervous wreck, constantly fiddled with the cuffs of his suit or tapped his fingers against his knees. At one point, Kurt caught him playing with his wedding ring. His husband leaned towards his ear to whisper, “It’s going to be fine.”

Tonight was the night for Blaine not only to prove himself to his father, but to all the distinguished guests of the hotel. They came to dinner hearing rumors of Robert Anderson’s youngest son’s contribution to the business. However, they didn’t know what yet.

So, when Blaine took the stage and the spotlight hit him, the entire room fell silent. He cleared his throat, leaned into the mic and said clearly, “Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you all for coming here tonight.”

Slight bewilderment grew on each and every guest’s expression as he announced their entertainment tonight was, “Of the very essence of this great city.” He caught them eyeing the simple stage he stood on when he added, “It’ll be something that’ll surprise you.”

Kurt took his hand when he sat back down, squeezing it and smiling until Blaine smiled back. The stage still had the spotlight shining onto it, except now a different person was owning it, lifting her chin high and placing a stool behind the microphone.

Holding their breath, Blaine and Kurt watched as the performer adjusted the mic to her preference. Blaine saw his father at another table, waiting with a stony expression. It was no lie Robert would only be one hundred percent confident with Blaine’s idea if the audience’s response was positive. He was never one to believe without seeing.

“Yes, thank you, Mr. Anderson,” the performer said, smoothing her pencil skirt under her legs before sitting on the stool. “Or, I guess it’s Mr. Anderson-Hummel now. Whatever.” She smiled at the audience, thin and steady. As if to say she wasn’t intimidated by their names or titles one bit. “I am honored to be the first in _The Anderson Suites_ ’ new addition of unknown yet wickedly talented artists to entertain you. The process was brutal, and trust me, Mr. Anderson would never let me set a toe on this stage unless I was going to rock your world.”

With that, she winked, and the guests glanced at each other. Some intrigued, others obviously doubtful. Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hand tighter.

“So, without further ado,” She tossed her dark hair to one side before squaring her shoulders. “My name is Santana Lopez-Pierce. I live in Bushwick and I will be singing _Set Fire to the Rain_.”

With only the accompaniment of a piano, Santana set her poise and began to sing, unwavering and confident. Immediately, the audience’s expressions shift from skeptical to amazement.

This young woman from a simple neighborhood in New York City was entrancing each and every eminent guest. The tiniest smile curled at Robert’s lips, and when Blaine met his gaze, he gave a slight nod, relaxing in his chair.

Blaine exhaled, not even realizing he had been holding his breath for so long. Kurt was shaking his arm, practically bouncing in his seat, whispering, “ _I told you so!_ ”  

When Santana finished, she stood and made a bow as the audience gave her a standing ovation. Blaine could barely believe his eyes. Everyone was impressed and astonished because of _his_ work.

Some guests were leaning towards Robert, questioning him, and Robert simply gestured towards Blaine. And when he did, there was no denying the pure look of pride in his father’s eyes.

Blaine swallowed, hardly focusing on Santana exiting the stage and joining her wife for congratulations. In the blur of emotions, he was certain he heard her say something along the lines of, “Hopefully this means I won’t have to work at that shitty diner anymore!” However, his world snapped into normal speed when arms were thrown around his shoulders before a kiss pressed against his cheek.

“Oh, Blaine,” his husband said breathlessly, a grin splitting his face. Much like Robert, Kurt was beaming at him while the guests continued to clap. “You did it.”

The boy who was once called the arrogant, lazy member of such a highly-praised family, who was considered to never prosper in life, to take responsibility and become something, had taken a risky move and managed to shock everyone in the room--including himself.

It was true, Blaine was a changed person. To know at one point he considered the life he was now living to be awful and cringe-worthy, and now he was the happiest he had ever felt.

And to think, this was only the beginning.

* * *

It wasn’t a secret; Kurt’s husband was struck with baby fever.

Being one already to have witnessed this, Kurt knew all the signs. Blaine first would innocently wave to babies in their strollers at the park or in their cart seats while they shopped for groceries. Then it was him studying the extra guest bedrooms, arguing they shouldn’t convert it to an office _just_ yet, because who knows what else they might need it for. After that, Blaine lingered at displays of baby clothes inside stores, touching the tiny footie pajamas or smiling fondly at animal-themed onesies.

The worst was when Santana and Brittany adopted a one-year-old daughter and Blaine instantly adored her. When he held her for the first time, Kurt swore tears welled up in his hazel eyes. That’s when Kurt knew the situation was hopeless.

Since brushing off the idea Blaine’s actions were unconscious was no good, Kurt tried to reason with himself on how to handle this. On the upside, they were in a magnificent state of financial stability. True, he hadn’t dwelled more on performing presently. After receiving numerous positive reviews on _The Indigo Lover_ and then landing a few other notable roles here and there, Kurt found more love in fashion. Working at the tailor shop was fun and allowed him to express his individual creativity. Not to mention he had become surprisingly popular, to the point people had to make reservations far in advance for him to create a personalized outfit.

And Blaine was blossoming in the family business. He grew used to the system and handled the responsibilities effortlessly. Every night, even if he had been swarmed by phone calls or paperwork, he would still wear a sated smile when crawling into bed.

Yet, there was no ignoring the downside. Even though Kurt tried to feel a fluttering warmth when seeing a baby cradled in their parents’ arms in passing shops, or feel his heart swell at the sight of Luna Lopez-Pierce staring up at his husband with her brown eyes squinting and her chubby cheeks puffing with her giggles.

But there was nothing.

Or perhaps, it reminded Kurt too much of last time. When Liam pushed the idea of a child to the point where Kurt caved, even though deep down he was far from ready to be a father.

One night, after Max was put to bed and the kitchen was brightly lit against the night shown through the large windows, Kurt loaded dirty plates from the sink into the dishwasher. Blaine walked up beside him, leaning against the counter top with his phone out, a corner of his mouth curled as he scrolled through a web page.   

“So the name Luna means ‘the moon,’ right? Well, apparently Cynthia does too. And did you know Aurora means--”

Without thinking, Kurt dropped the plate he had been holding into the sink.

It shattered, and before Blaine could jump in and ask if he was okay, Kurt snapped. All those doubts and fears tumbled out into yelling and wild hand gestures, demanding why on earth Blaine cared and how his obsession was unhealthy and how dare he do any of this without making sure Kurt was comfortable with it.

His burst of ferocity ended with him pausing, hearing the sound of his own hard breathing before hot tears blurred his vision. Then it was Blaine’s arms enclosing him and Blaine’s voice apologizing over and over.

They crumpled to the kitchen floor together, Kurt’s knees bent away from himself as Blaine stayed perched on a kneel, rubbing Kurt’s back and looking utterly bewildered and concerned.

“I don’t want to have a baby right now,” Kurt managed to say, staring at his husband’s worn grey shirt.

“That’s okay,” Blaine said gently.

“No, because _you_ want a baby. I’ve seen how you act around Luna and...now researching baby names. I’m sorry, Blaine, but...but I--I don’t--”

His husband soothed his back faster, kissing his forehead. “No, I understand. Okay, I admit...recently I may be a bit overly-fascinated in all things baby.” He smiled when Kurt made a broken chuckle. “But we’ve been married for a year; we’re just starting our lives together. I’m the one being ridiculous here.”

Kurt inhaled deeply, shuddering an exhale. “It’s...it’s all too soon and too fast and I don’t even know if I _ever_ want another kid,” he whispered.

For some reason, he expected Blaine to be crushed and heartbroken at his confession. To try and kindly give logic where he stood. But, instead of sad eyes and distance, Blaine just ducked his head and planted a quick, sweet peck to Kurt’s lips.

“I understand,” he repeated. “Besides, we have Max. And Lacy, and now Luna!” He grinned toothily, showing Kurt how genuine his words were.

The unease settled into peace, and Kurt finally relaxed for the first time in days. Middle ground, that was the key to disputes. Blaine was being more than kind, letting go of his dreams for Kurt’s happiness.

Which was why Kurt returned home from work the next day carrying a small kennel. After Max’s bouncing curiosity and multiple questions, Kurt answered his and his husband’s confusion by placing the kennel on the island in the kitchen and unlatching the lock.

“I named her Aurora,” Kurt explained, lifting the lump of orange fur out and cradling it to his chest, scratching between the triangle ears. “It means ‘dawn’ and...it seemed fitting.”

Max’s jaw hung in wonder as the kitten meowed, peeking her tiny head out at the world. It was Blaine Kurt was worried about, and once he saw him frozen in his tracks, mouth parted and eyes wide and soft at the kitten, Kurt knew his husband’s unease had found tranquility as well.

* * *

Marriage being the end of a sex life was the biggest lie ever, Blaine decided.

Except, Max conveniently interrupting was an outlier.

True, Blaine never expected to be stopped halfway to an orgasm because someone was having a nightmare down the hall. He never pictured his life would become a system where you have to check if that certain someone was sound asleep before clothes could come off. But, just like everything else after he first met Kurt, he adapted easily.

There were some embarrassing-at-the-time yet funny-now moments, like when he and Kurt fell asleep in the bath together, scented candles lit around them with the lights dimmed and Kurt’s naked body pressed against his chest. It was one of those days where the two been so exhausted and Blaine decided to spontaneously treat them both, wine and chocolate included.

Neither of them planned to take a nap, and were harshly woken up when Max burst through the bathroom door yelling, “LACY FARTED!”

And if that wasn’t enough to kill the mood, Kurt jolted awake and knocked his head painfully against Blaine’s jaw.

And who could forget that day when Blaine was on his laptop and Kurt was reading a book and Max was playing in his room. Everything had been peaceful, until Max emerged down the hall, running with a towel tied around his neck as a makeshift cape. He had his toy lightsaber in one hand...and a pair of furry handcuffs in the other.

He shouted, “It’s the police, you’re under arrest!” to the duo. It took exactly one second for them to take in the scene and hastily scramble to their feet--Kurt’s face on fire while Blaine stumbled for words on how Max is _not_ supposed to play with those.

It was just one of those things with married life, Blaine figured. Just like taking turns cooking dinner or teaming up to help Max with his math homework. It’s being able to brag at work, “Well, my _husband_ designed that.” And it’s even dealing with your son accidentally finding embarrassing stuff about your sex life.

Still, Blaine loved every second of it. He’ll take humiliation any day if it meant he could continue being married to Kurt and being a father to Max.

“Sorry,” Kurt said for perhaps the tenth time one night, halting their movements when they became too loud again.

Blaine groaned, dropping his head to the pillow and letting his hands fall away from Kurt’s sweaty sides. He understood _why_ , of course. Max had only fallen asleep about an hour ago, and it would only be bad news if he woke to screams of “ _Jesus Christ!_ ” and “ _Fuck, Blaine!_ ” from his parents’ room.

But his chest was heaving and the heat was so _tight_ , ready to snap and take him to blissful relief. It didn’t exactly help that Kurt was straddling him, one hand braced on the headboard as his thighs trembled from doing all the work. The process so far was agonizing slow and extra careful, neither of them reaching climax.

Kurt glanced at the door, chewing his bottom lip before saying, “Do you think we should--?”

In a flash Blaine pushed himself up, keeping arms around his husband’s torso as he switched their positions, pressing Kurt’s back to the mattress and suppressing his squeak of surprise by connecting their mouths.

The thing was, he didn’t separate. Blaine kept kissing him fiercely, muffling their moans as he brought back the rhythm, coaxing the delicious heat to return. After getting over the initial shock, Kurt’s fingers found their way to Blaine’s hair, tangling and gripping on for life.

Blaine’s lips didn’t part when Kurt shuddered and jerked under him. Instead, he swallowed the gasp and squeezed his eyes tight before he came as well.

Kurt looked dazed when the aftershocks finished, and he sighed softly as he petted Blaine’s hair, gazing up with flushed cheeks and a satisfied smile.

“We need a bigger house,” he remarked.

Blaine hummed, pressing his forehead to his husband’s. “Maybe,” he breathed. “One day.”

* * *

The penthouse refrigerator was significantly larger than the old apartment’s. Double doors, sleek surface, and plenty of storage space. Although, much like the apartment’s, the outside had transformed into a cluttered collage. Flyers for school events, drawings from Max’s art classes, doodles made at home, Playbills from all sorts of shows, reminders to buy eggs, and the dozens upon dozens of photographs.

Kurt plucked the next photo from the fridge while also dragging the shoebox across the counter top, closer to him. It was decided that cleaning and organization needed to be done. He argued to Blaine that he’ll keep the important papers on the fridge, while perhaps putting the others in a scrapbook or whatnot. Just until the move date came nearer.

The photo Kurt picked was of Max’s first grade graduation. He had worn a bright yellow cap and gown and stood straight against the wall as the picture was being taken. His smile was so big he had to shut his eyes. In the corner you could spot Aurora curled up on her cheetah-print bed, silently judging.

Kurt smiled to himself before placing it in the shoebox for scrapbooking.

Another photo of Max was chosen next. However, in this one, he was sitting next to a Lego town with a cheery high school girl beside him. The mentoring program quickly became more fun than work, so it appeared. Now Max looked forward to it every week. He would go on and on over dinner how he built all sorts of Lego sculptures with his mentor, the cheery Catherine, or how he and his friend Jack took turns playing Captain America versus the Red Skull. It was comforting to know how much his son had grown open to things that used to make him shy away.

 _Scrapbook_ , Kurt concluded, happily setting it aside.

The next one was of him and Blaine on their honeymoon in Paris. Their cheeks were pressed together as they smiled toothily up at the camera Blaine held, the Eiffel Tower in the background partially cut from frame in order to fit their faces. The sun was bright that day, but their smiles were brighter. So full of joy and the start of being husbands.

_God, it seems like only yesterday…_

He set it beside the shoebox, figuring it could stay on the fridge a little bit longer.

Next one taken down had been sent to them from Pam. She had sneakily snapped it during the weekend Max stayed over at his grandparents’ manor. It seemed like no matter where Max went, he managed to always watch Saturday cartoons, and with a partner, no less.

So, there his son was, cross-legged on the Anderson’s living room carpet, dressed in his plaid pajamas and cradling his stuffed Dalmatian on his lap. His eyes were fixated up at the large flat screen TV, and his mouth was opened, as if explaining the show to the person sitting to his right.

And to his right, also cross-legged and with his brow furrowed in fascination, wearing his own pair of worn pajamas, was one of the richest men in country.

Kurt felt a warm wave of content in his chest. Like practically everyone, Robert adored Max. Blaine blamed it on the fact that he finally had a grandson, but still, the older man seemed to completely shift from the stone-cold businessman to an enthusiastic grandfather. Robert was more than happy to cancel meetings if it meant taking Max to the park or for a ride on the family yacht. He listened intently whenever Max would babble on about superheroes or stories like how Lacy ate some of Aurora’s cat food.

Kurt figured he should be surprised, but honestly, he wasn’t. He had seen the man under the haughty facade. The man who raised Blaine, who brought him up with kindness and love and silliness. Anderson family traits, Kurt supposed.

He placed the photo on top of the honeymoon one.

“We’re done!” announced the voice from the hall, making Kurt look up. Carrying a large cardboard box, Blaine marched into the kitchen with Max skipping close behind and Lacy right at his heels, her nose up and her tail wagging.

“All the clothes that don’t fit,” Blaine said, dropping the box to the counter top. “Or Max simply doesn’t want anymore.”

“Can I play now?” Max asked Kurt, activating a special power Blaine taught him: big, puppy-dog eyes while tilting his chin down, blinking a few times before sticking out his bottom lip. “Pretty please?”

Kurt glared at Blaine, seeing him snicker at Max’s expression, before telling him, “Yes, you may.”

While their son skidded off to the living room with Lacy, Blaine walked around to where Kurt was, picking up the photographs already sorted out. “Aw, how cute,” he said, holding up the honeymoon picture to Kurt.

Smiling, Kurt took it back and returned it to the pile. “I know,” he sighed.

“That one guy in the blue coat must be lucky,” Blaine said, snaking an arm around Kurt’s waist before hooking his chin over his shoulder. “To be married to such a gorgeous man.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, letting his husband peck a kiss to his neck. “What about this one?” Kurt asked, choosing a random photo off the refrigerator. Holding it out ahead of them, Kurt studied it. “Fridge or scrapbook?”

 It had been taken fairly recent, when the three of them spent a day at Coney Island. Blaine had asked a short elderly woman to take their picture; Kurt remembered her fumbling with the camera as they stood still. On the left, Kurt was smiling and squinting from the summer sun. On the right, Blaine had his hand resting on Kurt’s lower back, beaming so wide crinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. And in the middle, propped against Kurt’s hip, was Max, his shirt stained with chocolate ice cream and one of his hands holding a balloon.

“I say,” Blaine replied, settling his chin back on Kurt’s shoulder, “that we enlarge it and hang it above the mantel of our new fireplace.”

Snorting, Kurt craned his head the best he could to look at him. “I don’t think it’s elegant enough for that sort of honor.”

“Hey, our house, our rules, right?” Blaine grinned.

 _Our house_. Not as massive as Robert and Pam’s mansion, but large enough to have a spacious yard for Lacy and an outdoor pool for Max. It was close enough to the city they could make it to work easily and far away enough for peace and quiet. When they visited it for the first time, Kurt felt the sudden mix of his and Blaine’s lifestyles merge together, creating this grandeur yet comfortable home.

And the best part? Not the Victorian dining room or the balconies or the fact the master bedroom came with the largest bed Kurt had ever seen. But there was a room at the far end of the house, with arched windows and bookshelves and plenty of space just for _him_. Kurt’s office. An area Blaine promised could be his and only his, where he could get away from the world when needed and take time for himself.

It was all Kurt ever wanted.

In a few short weeks, their family would officially leave the penthouse and start a new beginning, at a place that wasn’t entirely Kurt’s or Blaine’s but _theirs_. The thought caused Kurt to spend nights awake and smiling to himself, giddy and excited and purely _happy_.

“My rule is,” Kurt finally decided, lowering the picture, “that I put this in my new office, yes?”

He heard Blaine scoff dramatically, rolling his head away from his shoulder. “Whatever you say, Mr. Anderson-Hummel,” he sighed exasperatedly, sliding his hands away from Kurt’s torso--but pausing at his hips for a moment to pinch lightly.

Yet enough to make Kurt jump and squeak before instinctively swatting him on the arm. “ _Blaine!_ ” he hissed. “I’m ticklish there!”

“I remember,” Blaine replied cheekily, using this opportunity to kiss him on the lips.

“ _Aurora!_ ” Max shrieked from the living room. Both adults snapped around, seeing Max gape at the cat on the couch, peacefully curled up as Max pointed his lightsaber at her and held his Captain America shield close to his chest. Lacy was right at his hip, panting and lolling her long tongue. “You’re the queen of the trolls, aren’t you?!”

Kurt and Blaine burst out in laughter as Aurora simply stared back at their son, indifferent on his accusation. As Max dove under the coffee table for protection, urging Lacy to join him, Kurt felt Blaine lean against his side, sighing contently.

  _Home_. The word never felt so right than in this moment.  It wasn’t a place, more of a soul-deep feeling. Where Max was giggling and happy and Blaine was near him, fingers finding their way between his own. _Safe_ was another, Kurt felt that strongly. He had someone to catch him when he fell, to reassure him when the worst came, to provide comfort and support, something Kurt never really admitted he needed before he met Blaine.

 _Loved_. Above all else Kurt felt truly, undeniably loved. Loved and cherished and every other synonym out there. To think he used to be a man who could never even dare to dream of his life turning out this beautiful, this perfectly imperfect. And to know it wasn’t over, that he and Blaine were only starting their journey together. He smiled to himself, squeezing Blaine’s hand surely.

Not for the first time, Kurt wondered if he were somewhere else.

And, not for the first time, he was glad he wasn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's it called? Empty nest syndrome? Yeah, that's what I'm feeling now since this story is over. Believe me when I say I absolutely LOVED writing this. It was just plain fun and the response was incredible, more than anything I could have dreamed. So, thank you. Truly, thanks to each and every one of you who read and commented and left kudos. I wish stronger words existed, but I suppose 'thank you' will suffice for now :)  
> I apologize for the lateness of the last chapter (It was like my life decided to get CRAZY BUSY all at once. Darn you, life). But yeah, this is it :( So far, there are no plans for a sequel. But, as you can see I left it prettyyyy open-ended so if one day a good story pops in my mind, I can easily go ahead and write it :D  
> In the meantime, I DO have plans for different stories in the future. Different AUs, different plots and characters and romance. So, stay tuned, I guess? If you want you can check out my other stuff. That would be cool!  
> Thanks again, guys. Love you <3


	23. Chapter 23

No, this is not a surprising new chapter, sorry! More so this is an announcement to those who are still subscribed to this story or have just finished reading it.

There is going to be a sequel.

Yes, I KNOW In the notes of the last chapter I said there most likely wouldn't be, for I didn't want to just put something together when I had no idea whatsoever. However, after months and months a good, solid story has come to mind, and I was itching to write it down.

I don't even know if anyone who read _One and Only_ still remembers it, but many had asked for a sequel and now there's going to be one! Taken place shortly after this one ended, with the Anderson-Hummels living in their fancy new home. There'll be things happening like the whole mystery of Max's birth mother, someone from Blaine's past meeting Kurt (please don't be mad!!) and, of course, the chance of Max developing his first crush. And a ton more twists and turns, of course. Who knows what else! But I am very excited to write it.

So, stay tuned! _Stars and the Moon_ will be published soon. Hopefully you guys enjoy it!

[link to the sequel](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4588086/chapters/10451337?view_adult=true) <3


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